


Pictures On The Wall

by natsora



Category: Mass Effect - All Media Types
Genre: Ace main character, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Zombies, Angst, Blood, Canon Divergence, Death of sibling, F/F, Heavy Angst, Hurt No Comfort, Major Character Injury, Major character death - Freeform, Medical Inaccuracies, Mercy Killing, Minor Character Death, Past Femshep/Ashley Williams, Violence, Whump, Zombies, ace Shepard, because she is dead, deceased partner, everyone is human, hallucination, past Ashley Williams
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-03
Updated: 2019-07-03
Packaged: 2020-06-03 09:00:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 8
Words: 28,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19460728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/natsora/pseuds/natsora
Summary: Civilisation has fallen. Humans are the hunted now. The Reaper virus swept through Earth, turning humans to zombies. In these end times, a bite is a death sentence.The world has ended; it’s just taking a long time to actually die.





	1. The End Times

**Author's Note:**

> Art by the amazing [AzzyDarling](https://azzydarling.tumblr.com). Check out her [Tumblr](https://azzydarling.tumblr.com) and [AO3](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Azzy_Darling) account. I hope you like this story. 
> 
> Do take note of the tags. Characters will die in this fic. Also I've used the lyrics from [Pictures On A Wall by Ira Wolf](https://soundcloud.com/irawolfmusic/pictures-on-a-wall) a lot. Hence the title. xD
> 
> I hope you all enjoy the story! Unbeta-ed

Shepard yawned. A clear female voice sang as guitar strings strummed somewhere in the back of her head. The voice far away like a dream that’s still playing in her head as she tried to wake up. 

**I have wandered long enough  
To know how good a good thing was**

She sat up. Her arms stretched above her head, twisting her waist, groaning as muscles pulled and stretched. Bones popped as she worked the kinks out of her spine, two pairs of dog tags jingled as she moved. 

**I feel it more the further that I get  
So the wheels are pointed west**

Lips smacking, she scrubbed her eyes with the heels of her palms, rubbing the sleep from them. As she opened her eyes anew, the song faded. 

_Disgusting._

She snorted, a sound of mirth more than irritation as she stood. Her red short cropped hair was tousled from sleep. Birds were chirping overhead and dawn was peeking through between skyscrapers, glinting off glass windows long dulled by dust and age. 

“Good morning, Ash,” she whispered, glancing over to make sure her bike was still where she left it. 

It was her trusty stead, low slung seat with saddle bags latched onto both sides of its frame and an additional storage box on the back. It carried all her supplies and it had seen her through harrowing escapes and laboured along side her since… Her mind shied away from the memory. 

Shepard walked over the bike and unloaded the large five-gallon bottle lashed to the back. It was still half filled with collected rainwater. Pouring some onto a towel before she used it to clean up. She sighed, looking at the world with refreshed eyes as she drank deeply from it. Leaving a little in her mouth, she gargled. Mentally, she counted down from 60. Then, she swallowed the water. 

_Waste not, want not._

With wet fingers, she ran them through her hair and she shrugged out of her jacket. The sun was heating up the concrete jungle. And here in the tropics, it’s only nights she sometimes needed a jacket. Humidity could be a bitch. 

“So what’s the plan today?” 

She pulled out a tablet from her saddle bag and powered it up. It was one of her few surviving possessions from the before times; before the end of the world, before her life turned to shit, before it was every person for themselves. 

_Before the zombie fucking apocalypse._

With working power generators and petrol supplies dwindling, she was relied on solar to power the tablet. Beside Omega, there was nowhere else she could trade for petrol. 

“Speaking of which,” she laid out the precious few pieces of solar panels and hooked them up. A good chunk of the weight load on the bike was devoted to batteries. And they were not the dinky little AA and AAA ones. These were made for electric scooters and bikes. Well now they powered whatever she could hook them up to. Besides medical supplies, batteries and solar panels were one of the most valuable resources for trade and barter.

Rummaging around in her bags, she pulled out a half eaten ration bar. It was typical military rations. In these fucked up time, it’s one of the best kind of food. Providing high caloric output in a small package. Shepard grimaced as she chewed on it. It was sustenance but tasted like shit. 

_It looks like shit too._

She chuckled. Between bites, she checked on the data she had complied. Gone were the internet, gone were the telecommunication infrastructure they had taken for granted, unless one was part of the Alliance or living in one of the larger human colonies dotted all over Earth, one wouldn’t not get anything approaching life as before. All Shepard had were photographs of maps, screenshots taken of online maps. And these were outdated as fuck, but it’s better than nothing. 

“This looks promising,” she mused as she tapped her finger against the screen, grimacing at the fingerprints she was leaving on it. 

It was a hospital. A small one out in the west end of what used Eden Prime. Names of the before times didn’t matter anymore. People had moved beyond where they used to live. Pushed out by need or by force, one way or another the old world no longer existed beyond memories. 

She powered down the tablet, committing the directions to memory. “That’s the target for today.”

Shepard tilted her head. “Coming Ash?”

There was no answer beyond the birds and the warm breeze running through her hair. She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment. A long exhale through her mouth as she reached for the dog-tags through her tank top. They were as hard and unyielding as before. 

* * *

Though road traffic laws were no longer a thing, yet another thing left to the before times, Shepard still wore a helmet as she rode. Yes, she’d preferred to have the wind in her hair, but she’d also liked to actually survive if she crashed the damn bike. 

The roads were pockmarked with pot holes. Small ones she rode over without trouble, large ones required some manoeuvring to get around. It didn’t take long before she spotted road signs indicating she was near her destination. In the quiet, where apartment buildings stood guard over a neighbourhood given back to nature and zombies, her bike was loud. Shepard switched the bike to neutral and let it roll to a stop. The tires crunching the grit underneath. 

She held her breath. The early morning chill still lingered. Mist and dew clung to the dangling branches of flora gone wild. A canopy of trees shrouded the sun from the ground. But light peeked through the swaying branches. Her eyes darted around, nothing seemed amiss.

But that was no reason to be stupid. Shepard hadn’t survived this long on her own by being anything less than cautious. She leaned the bike against a tree, pulled a tarp over it and shifted branches to cover it. Her hand went to the pistol strapped to her thigh, the reassuring weight was still there. She shouldered her messenger bag and synched it tight against her body. 

_Watch your back._

The hospital was attractive in its remoteness. Tempting in the possibility that unspoiled supplies might still be inside, untouched by scavengers like herself. At the same time people might have been kept away by zombies. Thus far, Shepard was lucky. She hadn’t seen the first moaning, stomach-turning, fast-running fucker of the day. 

_This must be some kind of record._

Shepard spent hours painstakingly combing through the facility. Taking care to go slow and being quiet, lest she attracted the zombies. She inhaled sharply as she pushed the latest pair of doors open. The hinges creaked so loudly it echoed down the hallway. She froze, breath held, body stiff. 

_Just fucking great._

Shepard rolled her eyes and tightened her grip on her pistol. Nothing, beyond the skittering of cockroaches and rats across the dusty warped floor. Tentatively, she walked on, gingerly closing the door behind her. 

_Jackpot._

She grinned. This was the storeroom. There were shelves and shelves of medication. She didn’t care what she was taking. With an opened palm, she swept the contents of the nearest shelf into her bag, heedless of the dust she was kicking up. The ones that were in the refrigerator she left alone. Without electricity supplied to the place, those were useless now. Instead she took supplies like sterile bandages, packets of antiseptic, equipment like scalpels and suture kits. There were more in the room than she could carry. “Should have brought a bigger bag.”

_Probably safer to leave them here and come back another time._

Shepard pursed her lips and considered. This treasure trove was worth the risk in lingering. Jamming her bike full with as much as she could carry would get her the best bang for her buck. She’d have to head to Omega to trade for more petrol after in any case, might as well make the trip worth her while. Her lips curled at the thought. Omega was a cesspool of humans and all that they entailed, ruled by a queen with an iron fist. But it was safe, it was an enclave where people thrived. And she had a standing arrangement to give the Queen first dibs on everything she found.

_Beggars, choosers, Shep._

The bag was no longer bag shaped, it was a lump against her back. It was uncomfortable but comforting. With this she would be sorted for a good while. Mind made up, Shepard started towards the door. 

A ear-splitting noise rang out through the hospital. It was those very loud, very zombie summoning doors. But instead of merely creaking, the doors screamed open and thumped against the wall. The sound revebrated through the hospital. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck…” she hissed under her breath, “I knew my luck wouldn’t hold.”

_It never does._

Shepard lifted her pistol. Safety flicked off, she hunched behind cover, taking care to be quiet. The zombies had a very narrow field of vision, they detected motion and sound. As she edged from cover, she found a very scared human starring back at her. 

“What the fuck are you doing here?” she snarled. 

The man screamed in response. Shepard crossed the space between them and pressed her hand over his mouth. “Will you shut up?” she hissed. “Are you trying to get me killed?”

“No, no,” his voice muffled as he raised his hands in surrender. 

“Are you going scream again?” 

He shook his head vigourously. Slowly, she lifted her hand but kept her pistol aimed on him. 

_Never can be too careful._

Shepard nodded. It was only then she realised he wasn’t dressed like she was. As a scavenger, she was mostly in a pair of torn jeans, boots and tank top. Plus, she was always armed to the teeth. This man was wearing a pressed white shirt and a pair of pants, over it all was a white lab coat. 

_Where the fuck did he come from?_

She narrowed her eyes. He looked like he had just stepped out of the time machine from the before times. “Who are you?”

The man ran his hands through his mop of black hair. They trembled as he nudged his glasses up his nose. The gesture was meaningless. It slid down again promptly after. Maybe it had something to do with the amount of sweat pouring off him. 

“My name is Maelon Heplorn,” he said. 

Shepard tracked his free hand as it returned to the steel briefcase he was clutching. Solidly made with heavy duty buckles and unadorned with any discerning marks. It looked new. “What’s that?” she asked, jerking her chin at the case. 

“Nothing important, just some documents.”

“It’s the end of the fucking world and you’re carrying documents about?” she sneered, lips curling. “Can you tell a better lie?”

Maelon frowned, his lips trembling as he pressed the briefcase closer to his chest. “Please, please, just let me go. I have people after me. I need to get away!”

Without giving him a chance to speak, she tore the case out of his hands. She worked the catches single-handedly while still pointing her pistol at him. As she lifted the top, she gasped. Inside laid three red glowing vials, each held a liquid so thick it could probably stand on its own. 

_What the fuck?_

“What the fuck is this?” she snarled, glaring at Maelon. 

It was then she saw the logo, previously hidden by the case, emblazoned on his lab coat. A black diamond flanked by two bands of yellow. The words “Humanity First” stitched at the bottom. She gritted her teeth and smashed the butt of the pistol into Maelon’s face. “You’re fucking working for Cerberus? Tell me why I shouldn’t shoot you now? Fuck the zombies, I’ll finish you myself.”

Maelon cowered, hands over his head as he bent over. “Please, don’t. I’m trying to fix the mistakes I’ve made. I’m trying to save everyone!”

The unmistakable stink of urine filled the air. Shepard recoiled, stepping away from the yellow puddle pooling at his feet. 

“This is the cure!” he blurted. 

The revelation rocked Shepard. She braced herself against one of the shelves. 

_Are you going to believe him?_

Eyes flicked between the glowing red vials and Maelon’s cowering form. She laughed. It was a bitter, dry sound that raked across the air like claws. “A cure? From Cerberus? How can I believe you? You’re the ones who made the Reaper virus. A biological weapon used for fucking ethnic cleansing. And it fucking mutated. Guess what? It’s the fucking end of the world now.” Shepard growled, her head pounded, her breath short. 

Thoughts churned in her head like a life raft being tossed about in rough seas as she paced. When she finally stopped, she grabbed Maelon by his collar and hoisted him to his feet. “We stood and watched Cerberus sell their virus to extremists and nobody did anything about it. This is just fucking karma! And you’re telling me Cerberus had the cure all this time?”

Maelon squeezed his eyes shut. “I don’t know when we had developed it or if we… they had it since the start, but these are the only samples I’ve found. With these we can cure the virus. Bring zombies back and turn this around.”

Shepard stiffened. Bringing zombies back? If only she known then, if only she could turn back time. If only, if only, if only. 

_You should listen to him. It doesn’t seem like he’s lying._

Shepard forced her fingers to unclench and he sagged back to the floor. She slammed the case shut and buckled the catches again. “One way or another, I’m not leaving these vials with you.”

“No!” Maelon tried to pull it out of her hands, but Shepard jammed the pistol to his neck. 

Before either could speak, there was a ding. She stiffened. It was the elevator. A flat computerised voice said, “Level B1, doors closing.”

This building wasn’t supposed to have any power. Why was the elevator moving? “Who is after you?” she hissed. 

“Cerberus, they’re after me ever since I’ve taken these vials. They are trying to stop me from doing the right thing.”

Shepard quickly took the vials out and shoved them into her bag. With the countless rolls of bandages inside, it would be well cushioned. She ripped the refrigerator’s door open and picked three random vials of what’s probably insulin and inserted them into the foam cut out that held the vials. 

“What else do you have with you?”

“Nothing!”

“No tablets? No thumb drives containing the formula of the cure?”

“Just in my head, I’m not stupid.”

Shepard took a deep breath, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Let me get this right,” she said as she checked her ammo. “You got the formula for the cure entirely memorised.”

Maelon nodded. She slammed the clip home and the barrel clicked back into place. He flinched. “I seriously can’t believe this,” she spat. “This is a fucked up day.”

Boots thumped down the hallway outside. Crackle of static punctuated the air. Shepard had come into contact with Cerberus forces before. And she knew they never messed around. 

_Time to go, Shep._

She turned to Maelon. “Stick close or I’m leaving your ass behind,” she hissed, shoving the briefcase back at him. “Whatever you do, be quiet.”

* * *

It went wrong instantly of course. Maelon screamed in the face of the first zombie he encountered. It was as if he had never ventured out to see the world Cerberus had wrought since the outbreak of the Reaper virus. The zombie hissed, spraying his face with spittle and snot. Thankfully that’s not enough to get infected, it was just very disgusting. Shepard yanked him back by his collar and fired into its face. Its corrupted flesh, blue glowing eyes exploded under her gunfire, sending chunks of bone, blood and flesh everywhere. She slapped him hard across his face. He stiffened, one hand pressing against his swollen cheek in shock. 

“Shut the fuck up.”

_He’s just going to get you killed._

Shepard exhaled, willing her heart to stop slamming itself against her ribs. Eyes darting, ears pricked up as she stilled. The hallway looked empty but she knew it was only deceptively so. Dust motes danced against the light piercing through boarded up windows. 

Claws against tiles, scratching and skittering. Hisses and growls rang out as the false ceiling panels fell down. The first of a horde of zombies crawled into view. Maelon whimpered behind her. 

“Don’t move, don’t blink, don’t breathe.”

But one by one glowing blue eyes against corrupted flesh turned towards them. 

“We have to go now,” she shouted. “Now!”

The time for caution was over. It was do or die. She half dragged, half pulled Maelon along. He ran like he had flippers instead of feet, stumbling behind her barely able to keep up. As they burst out of the hospital into the open, Shepard heard gunfire. She ducked, pushing Maelon into the ground. He yelped as he went face first into the paved road. 

In the overgrown carpark outside was a pair of humans, both better armed than herself, firing upon the zombies that were flooding out from every possible crevice. 

“Scott, on your flank!” the woman shouted. 

A boom and the zombie was blown apart. The pair backed towards the vehicle behind them, calm and practised. 

“Whose idea was it to come here?” the guy shouted, reloading his shotgun. “Sara fucking Ryder that’s who!”

“Fine, fine,” Sara replied, firing her pistol at any which got too close. “It’s all my fault, I’ll admit this isn’t my best idea.”

Ryders. Shepard knew them. She had bartered with them on occasion. Twins living together on their own. They’re smart kids and more importantly they had a vehicle. They called it the Nomad. 

“Ryders!” she shouted, standing up with her arms raised after barring the door as best as she could. 

Scott whirled about, levelling the shotgun at her chest. 

_Steady, Shep._

She held still, her pistol pointed in the air. Her ears strained to hear if zombies or Cerberus forces were going to burst out from the barricaded door. 

“Oh Shepard, it’s you,” Scott said as he turned his attention back to the zombies. 

“Guys, I need a ride,” she said stepping towards them, firing her pistol at the zombies, tugging Maelon along. 

“But you got your bike,” Sara pointed out. 

“Not for me, for him.” That got their attention. Their distraction lasted for a split second before the zombie horde yanked it back. “How about it? I’ll trade you one of my solar panels? We don’t have much time. There’s a shit load more of those fuckers behind me.”

Maelon tugged at her tank top. “Can we trust them?”

Shepard sliced her hand through the air to silence him. “Do you prefer dubious allies or certain death?”

He clamped his mouth shut, lips pressed tight. A solid thump and the doors behind them burst open. 

_Shit, shit, shit._

Zombies surged through. Hands over feet, crawling, jumping launching themselves off each other. Fangs bared, spittle flying as they screeched. 

“Come on!” Shepard shouted, pulling Maelon along towards the twins. But that damned scientist tripped. He fucking tripped! She wished she could just blast his head open and be done with him. He’s more of a liability than an asset right now. 

“Get them away from me! No!” he screamed, scrambling away on his butt and hands. 

Zombies tore at his legs, dragging him back towards the horde. He yelped, bucking for all he was worth. 

_No, Shep!_

Shepard acted before she thought. Legs pumping, pistol lifting, she fired. Bang, bang, bang, each one a headshot. When her pistol clicked empty, one zombie reared up, open maw ready for any limb. Blunted teeth bared, she growled her defiance and swung the butt of the pistol down. The pistol worked well as a club in any case. Up and down, her arm fell upon the zombies, heedless of their hunger for her flesh. One arm punching zombies, the other yanking at Maelon. “Get the fuck up!”

_He’ll be the death of you._

Maelon scrambled to his feet, taking off towards the twins with a limp. The Nomad’s engine roared to life. 

“Do we have a deal?” Shepard yelled at the twins. 

She didn’t see the twins looking at each other. A calculating look passed between them. “Solar panel for a ride?”

“Yes!” 

“Deal! Shepard, we’re trusting you!”

“Have I ever backed off from a deal?” she growled backing away from the horde. 

She fished around in her pocket and pulled a grenade out. 

“Where the fuck did you get one of those?” Sara shouted, more excited than cautious. 

Shepard didn’t answer. “Maelon get to the twins! I’ll follow.”

Not waiting for an answer she pulled the pin and launched the grenade directly at the horde. “Fire in the hole!”

She turned and made a beeline for her bike. Ripping the tarp off, she pushed her bike upright. Screams filled the air, sundering the peace and quiet in this backwater neighbourhood. The Nomad peeled out, kicking up clumps of dirt before tires finding the solid surface of the road. 

For a split second she lamented the loss of the trove. But that went out of her mind when gunfire zipped over her head. She twisted and saw a squad of Cerberus troops firing at the horde and herself. Shepard couldn’t believe how well equipped they all were. They were mostly wearing white and yellow colours of Cerberus. But among them, one man was dressed in full black tactical armour, one woman in a black leather suit. But this was neither the time nor place to be distracted. 

Gunfire pinged against her bike. “Time to go,” she growled, kickstarting her bike. 

As the engine rumbled to life, pain flashed across her arm. There was no time to look at it. Shifting the bag to her front, she twisted the throttle and released the clutch. Tires met road and she raced off. 


	2. The Past Pressed Close

The Ryder base was nestled in a quiet cul-de-sac, not unlike the hospital where she found Maelon. Their home turned fortress was filled with defences albeit crude ones. Barb wire fences, cameras to monitor the exterior, a power generator and what she guessed was a good bit of petrol reserves. But where they got the petrol, she had no idea. 

It mostly served as a landmark as she made her way to Omega to barter. Rumour had it the Ryder patriarch had gone nuts trying to cure his wife of the Reaper virus and left his kids to fend for themselves. One way or another, Shepard appreciated what the Ryder patriarch had left behind. 

Her bike was still spluttering as she rode up to the home. One glance at the petrol meter and she grimaced. Hopefully the Ryders were generous and spare her some petrol to ride up to Omega. Getting stranded wouldn’t be a fun way to spend her time. She waited after turning the engine off, confident her arrival was already picked up by the camera mounted on the gate. 

“That you Shepard?” Sara called out. 

_Who else would it be?_

“Yup.”

The gate moved smoothly on well oiled tracks. Shepard noted in approval. She pushed her bike through the small gap. Once inside, she found Sara waiting for her. Brown hair tied in a ponytail, large brown eyes and skin freckled by the sun. For a split second, Shepard saw another face over Sara’s. Hair a brown so dark it verged on black pulled back into a similar ponytail. Eyes so serious when it came to missions but when they were just for her, they held a love so deep Shepard’s chest ached. It took effort to blink, she wanted to keep that image with her forever. When she did, the face was gone.

“Are you ok?” Sara asked. 

She shook her head to clear her mind. “Yeah, fine,” she ducked her head. With a practised move, she extended the kick stand with her foot, resting the bike on it as she dismounted. “Where’s Maelon?”

“Is that his name? He was just cowering the entire trip back clutching that case like it’s the Reaper cure. He didn’t even let us look at his wound.”

_Gotcha._

She grimaced, cursing her inability to maintain a poker face. Sara stopped, eyes narrowing but saying nothing. “All right, payment first, your guy later.”

Shepard sighed and lifted one precious solar panel from her saddle bags. This was worth its weight in gold, well maybe not gold now but something similar. She held it out. As Sara reached for it, she withdrew her hand. “Inside,” she countered. 

Sara huffed and then nodded, still eyeing her warily. 

Shepard had bartered with the twins before. They were friendly but they were not friends. In this end times, nobody were really friends anymore. There were partners, collectives, family but never friends. Trust was a commodity hard to come by. 

Sara rapped her knuckles against the solid wood door. “Scott, let us in.”

There were at least three solid thunks of bolts being slid away before the door opened. The hinges were likewise well oiled. Shepard was only half a step through the threshold when Scott grabbed her by her tank top. He slammed her against the wall, arm against her throat, choking her. But Shepard was military trained and though she wasn’t Alliance anymore, her training never really fade. Her pistol was already in her hand jammed against his ribs. 

“What the fuck, Scott?” Sara was tugging at her brother’s arm. 

He flinched when he felt cold steel against his skin. “Don’t make me shoot,” Shepard growled as she flicked the safety off the pistol. 

The arm across her throat eased off. Her eyes darted between the twins. “What the fuck is going on?”

“That guy we ferried here,” Scott spat, his fist releasing her tank top. “He’s fucked up.”

“Yeah, we’re all fucked up one way or another, what’s the big deal?”

“He is acting strange.”

“Scott if you can’t give me details, just tell me where he is.”

Shepard set the messenger bag gingerly on the ground, mindful of the potentially important cargo it held.

_Have you not decided to trust Maelon yet?_

Scott glared at her as if he hadn’t just left someone he didn’t trust alone in his home. He jerked his head towards the back. Shepard walked into the kitchen with the twins trailing behind her. 

Trained eyes taking in the small arsenal of pistols, rifles and shotguns but more importantly ammo on a kitchen table. She felt woefully inadequate with the single pistol strapped to her thigh. The place was complete with a stove and refrigerator. Vaguely she wondered how well stocked the Ryders were. 

“Maelon,” she called out. 

There was no response from the Cerberus scientist. Shepard glanced at Scott. He jerked his head towards the far door. She presumed it’s a toilet. Rapping her knuckles against the door, she called out again. 

Still no answer. Warily she approached, hand tight around the grip of her pistol. She pressed her ear against the door. Frowning as she tried to make out what’s going on inside. Grunts and groans, low and guttural vibrated through the door. 

_Shit, not good._

She tried the handle, it was locked. Just as lifted her foot to kick it down, the door swung open. Maelon hurtled out, a kitchen knife in his hand. “Give it to me, I need it now. Give it to me!” 

Shepard backed away, pistol aimed squarely at his chest. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“The cure I need it!”

“Are you bitten?” 

One question, a loaded one in these times, and the twins pulled their weapons on him. She grimaced. 

_Don’t be stupid._

Shepard put herself between Maelon and the Ryders, one palm held out towards each side, praying neither would attack her. “Don’t shoot. He has vital intel I need.”

“I did not sign up for this,” Sara growled, fury creasing her brow. 

“I told you not to trust her,” Scott snarled. “What the fuck have we invited into our home?”

_How the hell do you always manage to find yourself in such situations?_

Maelon screamed, hands clawing at his leg. “I need it now! Please I don’t want to die.”

He launched himself at Shepard, a knife in his hand, mouth opened, teeth bared. There was hardly room to move. Taking one step back, she lifted her arm to deflect the thrust. Pain ran up her arm as blade met flesh. Instincts screamed, training took over. She fired the pistol. It caught Maelon right in the middle of his chest. Staggering backwards, he stared at red blooming across his pristine white shirt. A look of bewilderment across his face as he fell. 

“You’re killed me,” he muttered, coughing as blood bubbled from his mouth. “You’ve killed all of us.”

Shepard’s hand shook as she hastily holstered her pistol. She ran for her bag and was tearing open a packet of sterile bandages. Bloody hands pressed against the gaping wound, but she knew it was too little, too late. Nobody could save him, not here and now. 

“You’ve doomed us all,” Maelon exhaled and went still. 

* * *

Two hours later, Maelon was buried in the small patch of dirt behind the Ryders’ home. Shepard’s arms burnt. The sun was setting. What had she done? Was she now a mass murderer? Had she just condemned humanity to this reality? Every single new zombie made from bites was now her fault. “This is fucked up, Ash,” she muttered, leaning against the spade, head pounding.

She stared at her bloody hands and squeezed her eyes shut. “I’m supposed to have left this behind.”

“Who are you talking to?” Sara called out, approaching warily, a bottle in her hand. 

Shepard stiffened as if caught doing something she wasn’t supposed to. “Nobody.” 

She glanced at Sara. A bottle was held out towards her. Shepard reached for it and Sara pulled her hand away, a grin on her face. 

_Tit for tat._

“Not funny,” she said flatly, making to rub the exhaustion from her eyes before remembering they were coated with dried blood. “Anyway, I’m done. Just give me a minute to clean up and I’ll be out of your hair.”

Sara snorted and shook her head, thrusting the bottle into her hand. She flinched, it was cold. “How nice to have a working refrigerator.”

Sara grinned. “Got to enjoy it while we still can. Life is fucking short nowadays.”

Shepard didn’t answer but drained the bottle. It was ice cold water to quench her thirst, to chase her weariness away. She didn’t relish having to seek shelter after sun down. But her welcome had surely gone up in flames. It’s amazing Scott hadn’t just shot her on the spot. In his place, she would have.

“You should clean that up,” Sara pointed her arm. 

She glanced at the dried blood on her forearm. “Yeah, I guess I should.”

“That one too,” Sara poked at her bicep. “You were shot earlier, didn’t you feel it?”

She shrugged, handing the empty bottle back to Sara. “Just a graze, adrenaline masks everything.”

Sara looked more impressed than anything else. “Come on,”

They made their way back inside. Scott stood sullenly with his hands across his chest. “Shepard’s staying the night here,” Sara declared. 

She stiffened. It was an offer she didn’t expect. Sure enough Scott was dragging his sister off into a corner as they had a hissed argument. Watching them she could almost convinced herself the world hadn’t ended and they were just a pair of siblings squabbling over nothing important. She ignored them and went to wash up. 

The Ryders had rainwater saved up in barrels and there was one where Maelon had been hiding out earlier. Grabbing her bag, she shut the door behind her. Arms braced against the sink, she stared herself at the broken mirror that hung against the wall. 

“Mass murderer.”

_Don’t do this, Shep._

“Fucking deliverer of death.”

She took a deep breath and started stripping. There was no telling when she’ll be able to get a chance to wash up. 

Scars, new and red, old and white littered her body. Lean muscles born from training and honed by years of survival on her own, rippled under her tanned skin. The dog tags jingled as she pulled the tank top off. They weighed heavy around her neck as she stared at them in her reflection. They swayed as her chest heaved. Frustration boiled under her skin. With an exhale, she wrenched her eyes away from her reflection and turned to the task at hand.

* * *

Shepard emerged with hair dripping wet, wounds cleaned out and stinging. Scott was waiting outside. She raised an eyebrow at him. 

“Where’s the payment?”

_Right, you’ve not paid up. And you’ve made a mess of their place. Nothing seemed to have changed._

Shepard huffed and pulled the panel out of her bag and handed it over. Scott wasn’t in the mood for jokes but then again after killing a man neither was she. Sara hovered anxiously behind. He nodded, seemingly satisfied. “You’re gone tomorrow morning.”

“Yes.” All plans to barter for petrol gone from her mind.

Without a need to belabour the point, he left. It was like a leash was removed from Sara’s collar because she closed the distance between them. “Let me help,” she said, gesturing at her wounds. 

Shepard shrugged, finding a seat in the kitchen turned armoury. Sara had cleared a small space and had some medical supplies laid out. She cocked her head at the behaviour. This was not typical of human interactions between almost strangers.

 _Is the girl looking to seduce you with some bandages?_ An echo of a laugh rang inside her head and she squeezed her eyes shut for a moment. 

“Does it hurt?” Sara asked, eyes wide and earnest as she applied antiseptic. 

“No.” One word, curt and clipped, hopefully it would head off whatever Sara hoped.

“All right.” Bandages came on next, one on her left forearm, the other over her right bicep. 

Shepard fished around inside her bag and pulled out an equal number of supplies Sara used. “Payment,” she explained. 

Sara nodded, taking them without question. 

_Smart girl, maybe you’ll like her._

Shepard scrubbed her face roughly. “I’ll bed down on the sofa if that’s ok with you.”

Sara nodded. “Yeah.” 

As she moved towards the back rooms, she hesitated. “Do you want to…”

Shepard stood. The chair scraped against the floor roughly. Sighing, she shook her head. “Sara, you’re a nice kid but no. I’m ace.”

Sara blinked, knowledge bleeding into her eyes, hope dying. “Oh.”

Shepard was fine letting her misunderstand she’s sex repulsed. It didn't matter one way or another that she wasn’t. It couldn’t be further from the truth. It just made things easier for her. Now she knew Shepard wasn’t available for a quick roll in the hay. Shepard lacked the energy to explain what’s going on to everyone who looked at her this way. 

Red crept up Sara’s face as she clamped her mouth shut before nervous laughter burst through. “Oh you thought…” Her voice trailed off. “No, I was just going to ask if you wanted something to eat.”

Shepard didn’t speak. It didn’t matter who had misread the situation. At least everyone was on the same page. “I have my own,” she patted her bag.

Sara nodded and fled.

As Shepard lay down on the sofa, her pistol still strapped to her thigh despite the discomfort, she could hear strains of a familiar song. 

**But I want to know how it feels to hang pictures on a wall  
Sleep in the same bed at night**

Her chest ached in the same familiar way. Shepard relished the feeling. It reminded her of the good and bad times. Memories pressed against the back of her eyelids. 

**I want reasons to stay**  
I want someone to take up my time,  
And miss me when I go

One hand wrapped around the dog tags, she closed her eyes and let sleep take her, fully relaxing for once. 

* * *

Shepard’s hands tightening on her rifle. She twisted to look behind her, a pair of dog tags jingling inside her tactical armour. The armour chafed, hours of running, sweating through it, it was a nightmare. “Ash! Kaidan!” she shouted into the comms. “Come in!”

Static crackled but there was no response. The stone in her gut weighed heavy. Something wasn’t right, she felt it in her bones. 

Her breath was harsh inside her helmet. Their job was simple, set up a perimeter around the facility and then secure medical supplies. It’s supposed to be straight forward. But nobody counted on the rioters. 

The facility still had electricity. Flood lights cast harsh shadows against the ground, lighting up the street sign. Virmire, it read. Shepard tore her eyes off it and faced the tidal wave of human anger and frustration pressing up against her. 

“Down with the Alliance! You’re just keeping it all for yourself! Military first, citizens second!” They brandished their weapons. The situation was explosive and all it needed was a tiny spark. 

Shepard whirled, she was surrounded. Rioters pressing in on all sides. Where was her team? Where was everyone? What the fuck was going on? Her finger rested against the trigger, every surge of the crowd made her flinched. To count on plastic barricades to hold back the rioters was a fantasy.

Screams rang out, echoing as it bounced against the silent concrete jungle. Shepard stiffened. Confusion rippled through the crowd. “Zombies!” And the rioters was a flood rushing towards her. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” 

Legs pumping as she raced into the facility. She had to find Ash, she had to find Kaidan. “Ash! Kaidan! Come in!”

This time instead of static a voice broke through. “-pard, come in.”

“Ash, is that you?” she asked, breath rushing out her in a whoosh. 

“It’s Kaidan, I need help!”

“What’s your position?”

* * *

Energy surged through Shepard as she joined the battle. Rifle bucking, shredding the zombies without mercy. Kaidan was alone. His team long lost to glowing blue eyes and corrupted flesh. He struggled with the supplies, attempting to carry more than he could. 

“Leave it!” she shouted, urging him towards the evac point. 

“But—”

“Fuck, do you want to die?”

Kaidan’s face twisted, looking at the life saving supplies they needed so much to continue the fight. Seconds ticked by like hours. “Kaidan! That’s an order, leave it!”

“Shep!” a secondary voice burst through the comms. “Shep, I need a hand here.”

“Where are you, Ash?”

The guttural growls of zombies echoed in the background. Shepard’s heart clenched in fear. “Kaidan, get to the evac point now!” she shouted as she took off. 

Her muscles burnt, her limbs screamed as she ran. She burst through a set of heavy double doors, eyes searching for Ash. Bright white fluorescent lights beat down on her. Clean white factory floors where medicine used to be made and bottled were standing still. Jaw tight, she stalked through the silenced machines. 

Waste, everything was a fucking waste. Earth was dying, racism embraced as the norm but nobody did a fucking thing. Not the governments, not the corporations, not the people. It took the tidal wave of the Reaper virus for the gears of corporate greed and racial hatred to ground to a halt.

A scream pierced the air. “Ash!”

Shepard raced towards the source of the scream. Beyond the factory floor was the warehouse. Among ripped open crates and overturned forklifts, Ash was surrounded by a horde of zombies. She fought, rifle bucking, teeth bared and a roar on her lips. 

In that instant, her breath was taken by the sight before her. The odds were bad, but Ash never gave up. And she wouldn’t either. Shepard jumped into the fray. Her finger ached as she pulled on the trigger till it clicked empty. Muscle memory took over. Fingers finding catches, releasing the magazine to slam another home. 

When the bullets ran out, she used the rifle as a club. On and on she waded through corrupted flesh turned to mush by sheer will. It was luck she came through unscathed. Silence descended when she smashed the butt of her rifle against the last zombie. It held the weight of dread. 

“Ash, Ash, Ash!” she called, pulling bodies away from her lover. 

Ash’s face was bloodlessly pale underneath the liquified guts of the zombies. Shepard pulled her helmet free. She couldn’t stand having it between them. It clattered to the floor uselessly. 

“Come on, come on,” she begged. 

Ash’s bun had come undone, brown hair plastered to her forehead by blood. Trembling fingers against her neck, Shepard prayed there was something, anything. 

“Please…”

A throb, Shepard was sure. It was unsteady and thready, but it was there. She sighed in relief, quickly checking Ash over. As she pulled against Ash’s arm, she groaned, her eyes fluttering. “Shit, it’s broken,” Shepard fished for her med-kit. 

She worked quickly, knowing how vulnerable they were. Just two soldiers in the middle of a zombie filled facility with only a rifle between them. To say it was not ideal was putting it mildly. A quick jerk of her neck, she tore her gloves off to put on sterile ones. As quickly and gingerly she could, she ripped the blood soaked sleeve open to splint Ash’s arm. But her hands stilled. 

“No.” A harsh exhale through gritted teeth. “Please no.”

Ash stirred, eyes fluttering as she blinked to clear her vision. “Shep?” she called, shifting to sit up but grimacing instead. 

Shepard backed away, face ashen and lightheaded. Hands releasing her lover’s, fear streaked across her body in stiff tension. 

“Shep, you’re scaring me, what is it?” Ash asked, coming fully to herself. 

Ash forced herself into a sitting position and looked at her arm. A gasp of breath and silence lapsed again. “Shep,” her voice strong and confident before now hushed and small. “Shepard, please look at me.”

The plea pierced through Shepard’s fog, she turned her green eyes to meet Ash’s brown ones. In those twin pools of liquid gold, she found everything she ever could dream of. But the world had to end. The world had to fucking end. 

Shepard gritted her teeth and rushed back to Ash’s side. She resumed splinting the arm, ignoring the bite mark where the tactical armour had broke. 

“You’re fine. We’ll get you back to base and Chakwas will know what to do,” she said briskly as if speed alone would convince the traitorous clenching in her chest. She pulled the latex gloves off and dropped them to the ground. “Can you stand?”

“Shepard, no,” Ash reached out and gripped her shoulder with her good arm. “Please, don’t make this harder than it is.”

She stiffened. Her eyes trained to the ground, at the mess she had made of the zombies. Corrupted flesh, red blood, mingling and mixing into a putrid sludge. Ash was going to be one of them, an enemy, a faceless foe with glowing blue eyes where her brown ones once were. Her gut roiled and her gorge rose, she clenched her teeth to hold it back in. 

In a matter of hours, all cognitive function would cease, an overwhelming urge to rend flesh from bone, to bite and chomp on living tissue would override everything. The woman she loved would be no more. The physical transformation from human skin to corrupted flesh and glowing blue eyes took longer. But it always started from the bite mark, black tendril snaking out and inwards.

“You promised, Shep,” Ash’s voice shook with sheer desperation. Her trembling hand tightened on Shepard’s shoulder. “Don’t let me turn,” she growled, Shepard’s armour creaked under the intensity of her grip. “You fucking promised.”

They were frozen, locked in that terrible moment between decision and action. Shepard could run, she could easily pick Ash up and go. They could sort it out back at base, Virmire be damned. Her fingers flexed. 

Then a screech rang out — zombies. There was no time. She had to decide now, but this was Ash. This was her wife, her life, her light. The only reason she fought as hard as she did, be as committed to survival when the world went to shit. Ash was everything and more. 

Ash was never one who waited, she was fire and passion. With a frustrated growl, she reached towards the blade Shepard had strapped to her thigh, heedless of the pain the motion wrought on her body. “If you can’t fulfil your promise, I’ll do it myself. I refuse to be one of them.” Blade in hand, she struggled to unbuckle her armour so that she could get at her chest. 

Shepard watched, tears clouding her vision. “Please, Ash. We can get out of this. We have got to go now.” Hands tugged at Ash’s good arm was rewarded with a score across the back of her hand as Ash swiped the blade at her. She hissed, hands withdrawing. 

“I refuse Shepard. If you can’t keep the single most important promise you made to me, just fuck off,” Ash snarled, nostrils flaring, tears running down her cheeks. 

Another screech, a thump against the metal doors as they were shoved open. Time had ran out. She had to decide now. 

Ash fumbled with her straps on her armour, but fatigue and blood loss had made her clumsy. Her knuckles white as she refused to relinquish the blade. “Shep, just go. I don’t need your death to be on me as well,” she shouted. “Help me or go, choose!”

That broke the spell. Hands moving quickly as Shepard tossed her rifle to the ground. Fingers worked the armour free. This usually happened after a mission as the joy of being alive took over them. A frenzy need to press skin against skin, to celebrate their survival. But this was wrong, all wrong. 

As Ash’s chest piece came free, she sagged back onto the ground, eyes squeezed shut as she held herself stiff. Pain creasing her brow. Shepard pressed her hand against the plain tank top Ash wore underneath, against her wife’s still beating heart. It skipped and lurched but it was _still beating_. A sob tore through her throat. Ash wrapped her hand around the back of her neck, tugging her down. 

Mouth against mouth, lips pressed against lips. They kissed. It was desperation, it was need, it was want. Shepard squeezed her eyes shut, tasting tears on her tongue as they finally parted for air. Ash wrapped her fingers around her hand and positioned the blade against her chest. 

“Make it quick.” 

Shepard nodded, a strangled sob burst from her lisp. Where she could barely keep the blade still, Ash’s grip was sure. 

“Breathe, Shep.”

She took a shuddering breath, easing the pressure in her chest. Ash steadied her in everything, even at the end she needed Ash. Skittering of too long toenails against the floor, the zombies were coming. Time had ran out. 

“I love you, Shep,” the words whispered, but they rang loud in Shepard’s ears. 

A deep inhale, a whispered goodbye, Shepard screamed as she plunged the blade into skin, past flesh into Ash’s chest. She angled the blade up and inwards, seeking the organ that kept Ash alive. Each twist of the blade brought more blood spilling out. Every inch the blade plunged, Ash screamed higher and higher, her eyes wide and starring at her. Her mouth opened and closed but she was beyond speech, robbed by the gushing blood. Her eyes sagged shut but the hand against her chest told Shepard that she still lived. Her heart still beat, weakly but valiantly. It lurched and shuddered and finally stopped. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” the apologies came too late to unhearing ears. 

She dropped the blade. It was revolting. _She_ was disgusting. A monster, that’s what she was, one that took her wife’s life. Hands stained red with blood, she reached towards Ash’s neck. Fingers wrapped around a familiar chain. She yanked on it and the dog tags came free. 

Then, Shepard ran. She ran and ran, muscles screaming for rest, heart slamming itself against her ribs, but she refused to stop. All the while, her hands clutched the dog tags so tight Ash’s name and serial number were imprinted into her skin. 


	3. Omega

“Ash!” Shepard jerked upright. 

Her heart pounded as wild eyes scanned her surroundings to gain her bearings. Eyes blinking away tears she didn’t know were streaming down her face. 

“Fuck.” 

The word carried all the weight she had been burdened with since Virmire. Her hands tight around the dog tags. 

_I miss you._

By the time she was done with her morning stretches, a habit she had maintained throughout the years, the nightmare was shoved back where it belonged. She peeked out the window through the heavy curtains that framed them as she munched on her morning ration bar. 

It was dawn. The morning mist still hung in the air. Dew condensing against the glass panels. She wasn’t looking at anything in particular but her eyes caught movement. The half eaten bar was hastily stuffed back into her pocket. Hand immediately going to her pistol. 

Yellow and white tactical armour rustled through cover and foliage. “Fuck,” she turned away from the window and hurried towards the twins’ room. She didn’t know which was Scott’s and which was Sara’s. But before she could knock, one of the doors opened. Sara burst out. “We got intruders!” she hissed, hammering on her brother’s door.

“I think it’s Cerberus,” Shepard said.

Sara’s eyes were flat and angry. “What the fuck did you lead to us? What the fuck did you bring to my door?”

She took a deep breath and shook her head. “I’ll explain later. You guys have to decide.”

“Decide what?” Sara growled, turning towards the armoury and started gearing up without waiting for Scott. Despite the early hour, she was completely alert and awake. 

_They must have taken turns monitoring the camera feed throughout the night._

Shepard inhaled sharply and returned to the window. She counted heads. The man in all black tactical armour, the woman in all black leather were outside. Both seemed to be in charge of this little operation. “The cure is real,” she whispered. 

_Was there ever doubt?_

She growled under her breath. “You should leave, you can’t hold out against Cerberus. They have too many people.”

Scott exited his room, dressed and geared up with a shotgun in his arms. He spared her a glare before joining his sister in the armoury.

“Shut up Shepard, you brought this trouble to our door. What the fuck do you have that they want?” Sara hissed, handing her brother a couple of grenades.

Shepard straightened, facing the twins. “The cure.”

Scott stiffened before breaking out into peals of laughter, pressing a hand against his stomach. “You’ve got to be joking. There is no fucking cure for the Reaper virus.”

Sara on the other hand just frowned harder. “Tell a better lie.”

She shrugged. “I can’t make you believe what you don’t want to. But Cerberus out there isn’t playing games. Whatever defences you have, it won’t be enough.”

“What the fuck do you know?” Sara shot back. 

Shepard understood the anger. It might not be her intention when she asked them to take Maelon, but life had a way in derailing all her plans anyway. She knew it better than most. This was bigger than righting this one wrong. She had the cure. 

Before she could speak, glass shattered and something crashed into the house. One thud, two thuds and smoke started pouring out from the canisters. “Tear gas!” she shouted. 

She pulled on her jacket and zipped it all the way up to her neck. Pulling it over her nose was meaningless, but she did it anyway. The twins were quickly donning gas masks. Their father had prepared them well. She on the other hand was shit out of luck. She coughed and started to tear up. 

_Get out of there. Go!_

Cerberus poured into the house. 

* * *

Shepard’s nostrils burnt, her throat seared, she could barely see through the tears streaming down her face, but she kept one hand tight on her bag. Shepard staggered, firing her pistol at any vague shadowy figure. 

“I’m out!” Sara shouted. 

Scott cursed in the background. 

“We can’t stay here!” she shouted again, coughing as she backed away. 

Cerberus would have established a perimeter around the house by now. She was too slow, she failed to get the twins to leave. It’s all going to end here. 

_No, you will not._

There was a sharp whistle, a crackle of static. The Cerberus troops stopped firing as one, all of them taking a step back. Shepard frowned. Cerberus had them all dead to rights. Why were they stopping now?

But Shepard didn’t question their luck, instead she smashed a window behind her open. A blast of warm air streamed in, dissipating some of the obnoxious choking tear gas. Relief, short as it was since they were all going to die anyway, was relished and not wasted. She didn’t intend to roll over and die without a fight. Slamming a fresh magazine into her her pistol, she stared valiantly through the smoke, blinking away tears. 

“Where’s Heplorn?” the man shouted. 

“Who?” Scott snarled back. “Who the fuck are you? Get the fuck out of my home!”

Scott’s shotgun pumped, the sound loud in the eerie silence of the motionless Cerberus soldiers. Their white and yellow armour blackened by gunfire, some bleeding but they did nothing to treat their wounds. Their death littered the ground, but they remained unmoving, unnervingly so. Shepard’s jaw tightened, she didn’t like this unnatural stillness. 

The man chuckled. “You can call me Kai Leng. My associate,” he gestured at the woman in black leather, “is Morinth. We represent Cerberus. One of our people stole proprietary products from us. All we want is to get them back. We’ll leave you alone.”

Shepard stiffened. “Is this how you say please?” Her gun steady and unwavering as she aimed at Kai Leng’s chest through her blurred vision. 

He chuckled through his helmet. “Can you even hit me with those swollen eyes?”

She growled a wordless noise of protest. “Don’t fucking trust them,” this she directed at the twins. Scott, the vague blur on her left, shot her a look. That she felt more than she saw. 

“I don’t know who the fuck Heplorn is,” he shouted. “Whoever they are, they are obviously not here. Get the fuck out of my home.” He lifted his shotgun. “I won’t repeat myself again!”

Shoes shuffled against shattered glass on Shepard’s right. She allowed herself a small turn of her head. It was Sara, she was all sharp edges and hard shell, but Shepard could feel her undercurrent of fear. The twins were young and weren’t military trained. They had never faced anyone as well equipped and determined as Cerberus. 

It’d be up to her to fix this. 

Shepard remembered in her original look of the armoury, there were grenades somewhere in here. And if she was right… Feet sliding across the floor slowly, inching and reaching with her free hand behind her back. They found several familiar egged shaped items. Their weight solid and reassuring in her pocket. 

“Why are we still talking?” Morinth asked, her voice calm but icy. 

Scott backed away against Morinth’s confident strut towards him. 

_It’s over. He’s giving ground._

Shepard snarled, knowing how ridiculous she looked with eyes red and swollen, snot streaming down her nose. “Is this what you want?” she shouted, breaking the tension. 

Rifles shifted towards her as she raised her hands up, pistol pointing to the air. Instincts screamed for her to take cover, but she forced herself to walk towards the briefcase. It was just sitting on the floor, lost amid all the smashed remains of the Ryders’ kitchen. Morinth’s eyes lit up at the sight of the case as Shepard picked it up from the ground. Pieces of glass chinked as they fell to join their partners on the floor. A smile split Morinth’s face.

“What are you doing?” Sara hissed. 

Sara was a smear across her vision no amount of blinking would resolve into a human. “Trust me,” she whispered. “Get ready to run.”

“But-“

A burst of gunfire rang out. Everyone flinched. “Less whispering, more moving,” Kai Leng called out, smoke drifting up from his rifle’s muzzle. 

Shepard slid the briefcase onto the kitchen table gingerly, positioning herself so that she was next to Scott. Morinth bestowed her a blurry smile. 

_I hope you know what you’re doing._

“Trust me,” she muttered again under her breath.

Time slowed. Shepard threw the case, aiming right at Morinth’s head. A flash of surprise turned fury flickered across her face as the case slammed squarely into her forehead. She fell. Shepard reached out with her free hand and yanked Scott behind her, her pistol firing on Kai Leng. 

“Go!”

Sara dove through the smashed window without hesitation and Scott followed quickly after. Gunfire erupted behind them. Shepard half couched and half ran towards the window, pulling the pins on the grenades. She tossed them behind her with a carelessness she didn’t feel. They clattered onto the kitchen floor. And she jumped. 

The blast seared her back as the ground rushed up towards her. Pain was the white flash in her vision, the fire licking across her skin. Two pairs of hands grabbed her. Fear surged, she struggled and trying to bring her pistol to bear. 

  
“It’s us!” Sara shouted, hearing blown by the explosion. 

Shepard groaned, forcing her legs refused to hold her weight. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Scott cursed as they hauled her to her feet.

“We have to go!” Sara insisted.

Shepard’s legs remembered how to work and they ran, the twins ahead with her stumbling in their wake. “Get her into the Nomad!” Sara barked. 

A pair of strong hands dragged and bundled her into the back of the vehicle. Shepard collapsed, groaning across the back seat. 

“Go, go, go!”

As her consciousness faded all she heard were the screech of tires and the lurch of motion. “What the fuck did I do, Ash?”

* * *

Agony was the throbbing mess across her back as she surfaced from the darkness. Shepard groaned. 

“She’s awake,” Scott announced. 

“Fuck,” her voice raspy and raw. The tear gas had done her no good. 

“Here, give her some water,” Sara instructed as the Nomad ran over a pothole. 

The motion jolted all her aches and pain awake. “Fuck,” Shepard hissed. “Can’t you drive properly?”

“Beggars can’t be choosers.”

She levered herself onto a sitting position, head pounding, lips chapped. A heavy sigh escaped her lips as she lean forward, pressing her head against the back of the chair. Scott shifted, taking a look at her back. 

“How does it look?” she asked as she found the strength to straight. 

“Not good.”

She grimaced, taking deep a drink from the offered bottle. The idea of attempting to treat herself while in a moving vehicle left her feeling exhausted. 

“Talk, Shepard,” Scott demanded, yanking the bottle out of her hands. Water sloshed against her face. “You fucking owe us an explanation.” 

And so she did. The twins bit their tongues as she spoke. The only accompaniment was the hum of the engine and the pounding in her head. “And that’s how Cerberus ended up at your door.”

“Fuck,” Sara hissed. By then, the Nomad was parked in a hidden little underground parking lot. The engine creaking as it cooled. 

“I don’t believe you!” Scott stated flatly. “Show it to me then. Prove to me you’ve got it.”

Shepard sighed and reached into the bag. Apparently she had the sense to keep her bag safe through the entire flight from Cerberus. With a silent prayer to no god in particular, she withdrew the bundle of bandages she had wrapped the vials in. 

It glowed red in the afternoon light. Its thick consistency, shimmered as particulates swirled around inside. Gingerly, she handed one to Scott. He lifted it up and looked at it against the light, eyes wide, mouth ajar. 

“If these weren’t important, why the fuck Cerberus want them back so badly?” Shepard pointed out. 

That snapped Scott out of his trance. He sighed, squeezing the bridge of his nose as he handed the vial to Sara. “If this isn’t the cure, you’ve just fucked our lives over for nothing.”

“I know,” her voice hushed. “I’m sorry for that. Maybe once things cool down, you can return home?”

_Shep, you’re not that naive._

She winced and took a deep breath. Her body was reminding her all that she had put it through. It was barely more than 24 hours since she met Maelon, she had also lost everything she own. Her bike, her supplies and all the solar panels and batteries gone. Everything she had were on her back and in this bag. If nothing else she wouldn’t have a lack of bandages any time soon. 

“So what’s the plan now?” Sara asked, her eyes earnest and calm. This question she directed at her brother. 

“I don’t know. We need somewhere we can lay low for a bit. With the supplies we have on the Nomad, we could last about a week but even then we will need to replenish our supplies eventually.”

“I have a suggestion,” Shepard interjected. 

Two pair of brown eyes tarred by frustration, exhaustion and no small amount of anger pinned her down. 

“Omega, that’s where I’m heading to. Come with me to Omega. I have contacts I can put you in touch with.”

“What kind of contacts?” Sara’s eyes narrowed, the vial still tight in her grip. 

“Alliance.”

_The prodigal daughter is returning?_

Scott’s lips curled. “The fucking military? The same ones who prioritised themselves over the citizens? They are just fucking tyrants.”

Shepard sighed. His accusations rang true. It was easy to rationalise it in the early days. The Alliance was made to bring order, to determine who needed what when. But as time went on, supplies were being hoarded, people joined so that they could actually eat and have access to supplies. That was before people formed enclaves to fight against the tide of corrupted flesh. Now the Alliance had lost whatever goodwill they used to have in the before times. They were no better than another gang. 

_But they have resources regular gangs don’t. They still have morals._

She dragged her hands over her face, grimacing at the fire that blazed over her skin. The Alliance would have the intel and people. They would be able to determine if what she had was really the cure. And then beyond that, distribution of the cure. This wasn’t something she could do on her own. Her hand wrapped around the dog tags and squeezed. Who else could she go to with this and still retain some measure of control? 

_There’s nobody else. You know this._

“That’s all I can offer. Do you agree? At the very least, you could trade for supplies when you get to Omega,” she pointed out. 

The twins exchanged a look, one that she couldn’t read. They nodded at the same time. But it was Scott who spoke. “All right, we’ll go to Omega and see what the Alliance can offer us.”

Shepard motioned with her fingers for the vial Sara had. “No,” she shook her head, teeth bared. “This is our assurance.”

She sighed. “Fine.”

* * *

By the time Omega loomed into view, Shepard’s butt was numb from the hours of sitting in the Nomad. Neither Scott nor Sara allowed her a turn driving the Nomad. They were still more than a little pissed about the entire thing. 

_Understandably so._

Her back was still sore and healing. The skin burnt by the blast had caught its fair share of shrapnel, but the wounds were mostly minor once they found a safe place to clean it up. Sara had helped again. “This is turning into a habit,” she remarked. 

“Twice is not a habit,” Shepard retorted. 

And that was the end of the subject. Facing battle together seem to erase all the awkwardness Sara had towards her after a failed attempt of a roll in the hay. And Shepard was glad for it. 

She scratched at the two scabbed over wounds on her arms absently. Sara tsked irritably when she noticed. Shepard’s hands stopped and they went to the dog tags. Fingers twirling them around as she peered out the windscreen.

Omega in all its dark glory rose up from the ground, a monument to human hubris and greed. Black struts like fingers stabbed the sky. Where tall skyscrapers elsewhere were left to rot and reclaimed by nature, at Omega they were maintained. It was one of the few places of mass human habitation that remained zombie free. 

Shepard wrinkled her nose. Omega stank. The distinctive fragrance of human waste coupled with burning trash was thick and rancid. Black smoke wafting into the air fuelling the rudimentary gears of human existence. It didn’t matter how long she stayed, she’d never get used to this. Too many bodies cramped into too small a space. And above them all stood Aria, the ruler of Omega. 

The Nomad rolled to a stop at the wall. The gate was sealed. “Now what?” Scott asked, he was at the wheel while Sara was riding shotgun. 

Shepard didn’t reply, instead she stepped out. For a split second, her heart lurched. What if the twins decided to drive away while the cure was still inside? The engine remained idling, Scott jerked his head at her, indicating she should hurry the fuck up. 

_Kids, huh?_

She chuckled under her breath. Turning to the gate and waved at the security camera mounted on it. There’s a crackle and a voice came through a speaker. 

“Who the fuck are you?”

“That’s none of your business, just tell Aria she has visitors.”

“Shepard? That you? Where’s your bike?”

She sighed. “Long story, just open the fucking gate.”

It seemed she had suitably impressed the twins with the double take they shot her. She smirked. The gates groaned open and they were through. Guards immediately surrounded the Nomad when they rolled to a stop. All of them bore Aria’s mark — a red bandanna bright against the usual black or khaki gear. The twins’ eyes were wide and wild. “Shepard, do you know what you’re doing?”

_My thoughts exactly._

“Yes,” she replied lightly, a harsh contrast to her racing pulse. “Just follow my lead. And keep your mouth shut unless Aria asks you a question.”

They nodded mutedly. Shepard slung the bag over her shoulder, grunting as the strap cut into her wounds. A pair of guards escorted them to the throne room. 

Booming music blasted out through a set of double doors. A queue snaking outwards. People, young and old, lined up as if this was the road to salvation. But inside, held nothing but a temporary reprieve from reality. And the price to enter is hefty. Goods if one had any, time and labour if one did not. And that’s how so many fell under Aria’s servitude. But she was good at her what she did. She was queen because she had the will, the power and the people to protect Omega. It was a cesspool but it maintained the illusion of normalcy. And for some it was enough. 

The guards ushered them into Afterlife. Music slammed into Shepard’s ears like an auditory assault. She winced. The bass line was so strong her heart lurched to keep up with its pace. Instead of heading towards the atrium of a corporate building turned dance floor, the guards jerked their rifles towards a set of wide stairs. They mounted step by step towards the upper level. 

Shepard glanced at the twins. They were staring, mouth gaping and eyes wide at the chandelier that hung above dance floor. It glittered and sparkled. 

_You’re the same when you first saw it._

She chuckled. She had much of the same expression when she first stepped into Afterlife years ago. 

Shore leave, newly married, heart so full she thought it might burst. Hands roving over skin, stripping, scratching, tugging and surging. Wet heat, warm touch. She squeezed her eyes shut, fending off the memories. Her hand went straight her dog tags. When she let go, Ash’s name was imprinted on her skin, again. 

_Let it go…_

“Can’t,” the word escaped her mouth in an exhale. 

But the moment was over before she knew it. Aria was lounging before her on her two metre long white sofa. White, of all colours she could have picked, she went with white in these end times.

_Maybe not quite the end times anymore._

“Shepard,” Aria greeted, not bothering to rise. “What business do you have in Omega? You know this isn’t how we do business.”

“I need to get in touch with the Alliance,” she said, there was no need to beat around the bush. Time was of the essence here. 

“Why? Are you returning to their fold, Commander?”

Shepard flinched at the mention of her old rank. “No, I’m not that person anymore.”

“Not after Virmire you mean? That disaster.”

She heard twin gasps behind her. Virmire happened early enough in the slow decline to doom that there were news reports about it. Shepard, the Hero of the Blitz, the Butcher of Torfan fronted the mission to get medical supplies from the facility. And it ended in an unmitigated disaster. Soldiers killed, civilians massacred and so many turned. Too many.

Shepard’s palm hurt. Her nails had dug half moons into her palm. Sara was looking at her in a new light. Gone was the comfortable camaraderie of shared danger, it was replaced by something far for dangerous, hope. Shepard looked away lest it burnt her. 

“Aria, can you do it or not?”

“Why?” the woman stood, she was tall and lanky but she exuded an aura of power and confidence nobody else matched. “Why should I, Shepard? I do not owe you anything. We’re business partners, not fuck buddies.”

_Not like she’ll do it free for fuck buddies either._

Everything felt like it could fall apart in an instant. Without Aria, she’d have no way to get in contact with the Alliance. It’s not like they were a phone call away. 

_Time to call in the favours._

“You do,” Shepard pointed out. “I helped you when you have an uprising on your hands.”

It was a few years ago. Shepard was in Omega for another stint of trading and bartering. One moment she was haggling for ration bars, the next she was leading a squad of Aria’s people into the battlefield. It was a mix of exhilaration and fear but it left a foul taste in her mouth. She was keenly aware Ash wasn’t watching her back. 

Aria’s brow creased. Shepard wondered if it was the wrong tack to take with the queen of Omega. Lips pursed, Aria nodded. “That you did. And maybe you’re right.”

Shepard held herself still as Aria approached. A cool hand pressed against her chest and she could feel her body responding to the touch. Her jaw tightened to keep the growl building in her throat back, willing the anger at the unwanted touch away. 

_Come on, Shep. Enjoy it a little. You can’t deny Aria is hot._

Her breath hissed out through her nose like it burnt her. Aria’s hand cupped her face, trailing down her neck. In one quick yank, Aria pulled her forward. She stepped towards Aria to keep her balance. Then, hot lips pressed against hers. Tongue snaking forth, invading her mouth. Shepard recoiled. “What the fuck?”

Aria smirked, fishing the chain out from inside her tank top. “Still holding on, eh?”

“Fuck you, Aria!”

Rifles lifted and aimed at Shepard and the twins. This time, Shepard didn’t care. She wiped her lips with the back of her hand. “Do we have a deal or not?”

“Sure, you’ll be at your usual place?”

Shepard nodded curtly, not trusting herself to speak. 

Aria lifted her hand and signalled to her guards. As they walked out, Sara pressed close against her. “What the fuck was that?”

“Price of doing business on Omega,” she growled, still feeling Aria’s lips on hers. 

* * *

The twins were busy making themselves at home in the small room Shepard had shared tenancy of. It was still as shitty as she had left it. A single light bulb hung in the middle of the space. A thin mattress wide enough for one in a corner and there was nothing else. Showers and toilets in Omega were all communal and she was glad for them. Food were exorbitant and entertainment more so. And she had told the twins as much. 

The frown across Scott’s face whenever she opened her mouth told her that her advice was not appreciated. “We don’t need a babysitter,” Scott growled. “We’re grown fucking adults and are taking care of ourselves before you fucked up our lives.”

Shepard raised her hands up in mock surrender. There was no point forcing advice on ears unwilling to hear them. She made herself comfortable in a corner. Scott was out the door once he shucked off his burdens, muttering something about making sure the Nomad was secured. She made sure he was armed before he left. 

That left Sara alone with her. 

Sara was a pendulum, swinging between anger and attraction. Shepard much preferred the anger. She didn’t know what to do with this new level of attraction. It wasn’t sexual or romantic if it was ever that, it was hope. She didn’t know how to deal with this. She didn’t dare let herself hope.

Shepard turned her back to Sara and peeled the ruined jacket from her back. The tank top went too, leaving her bare chested. A sigh escaped her lips, weary and frustrated as she tried to look at her wounds. 

“Do you need help?”

“Yeah,” she said. “How does it look? Are they scabbing over?”

Sara approached. Shepard could feel the warmth of her body as the dog tags jingled between her breast. “Can I touch you?”

She jerked her head around to face Sara. Sara shook her head vigorously. “No, not that way. Just… I need to test if any had pus in them.”

She relaxed and nodded. A warm hand pressed against her back, the touch fast and perfunctory. Her breath came easier. 

“Just a couple of the deeper ones looked infected.”

“Damn.”

Shepard bent over to get the medical supplies from her bag, but Sara beat her to it. “Come on, let me do it. It’s easier.”

She worked quietly. Shepard felt the sting of antiseptic and then a cool gel being spread over the worse of the wounds. The pain felt cathartic after that invasion of her space by Aria. Her hand went to the dog tags. And she could hear that song again. 

**I want a home**

Her eyes closed and wished she could convinced herself it was Ash’s hand against her back.

**Cause I have traveled cross this country wide  
And I feel there must be something more to find**

Her breath shuddered through her body like tiny tremors. She prayed it wasn’t a mistake to come to Omega. 

**I miss those mountains in Montana**


	4. Pick Up

A team was coming to verify Shepard’s identity. Who the Alliance was sending she had no idea. She figured Aria did some fast talking to make it happen. They couldn’t possibly just come on the strength of her name alone. 

That took a while, but it was time Shepard spent well. Bartering the excess supplies she had for a fresh set of clothes, replacing her tattered ones, as well as more ammo and some food. 

“When the contact is here, you’re gone,” Vidal said. “I don’t need Alliance trouble here.”

Shepard could hear Aria’s voice coming from his mouth. No doubt the queen didn’t enjoy being coerced on her own turf. She nodded and closed the door, wondering if her business arrangement with Aria was over. But that’s a headache for another time. 

In that time, Sara’s shiny gaze whenever their eyes met only seemed to grow. She didn’t know who Sara had been speaking to but whoever it was had been filling her with stories so exaggerated that it verged on fiction. 

_But they’re not all lies._

Scott on the other hand was happier too. Omega was a good fit for him. By the second day, he found a job and was being paid in supplies. He shrugged off her attempt to caution him about Omega. 

Shepard wanted to be moving again. This inactivity was killing her. She launched into her stretches, the better to be ready when it was time to go.

On the seventh day, Vidal rapped his knuckles on their door. “The contact is here,” he informed her. “Come with me.”

Shepard zipped her bag shut and shouldered it. The twins were doing the same. As they exited the room, she glanced over her shoulder. In seconds, it returned to its initial empty state like they were never there. 

“Lead the way,” she said.

Instead of returning to Aria’s throne room at Afterlife, Vidal led them upwards. Her eyebrows rose when they stopped at a lift lobby. But given what Aria had archived with Omega, she shouldn’t be surprised Aria had a working elevator in her headquarters.

He hit the button and they waited. Pretty soon there was a ding. Shepard stepped into the glass bottom elevator with no small amount trepidation. The twins near pressed themselves into the corners while Vidal chuckled. 

_Fancy._

The smirk on his face was starting to grate on her nerves. As the elevator rose, Shepard stared at the ground and watched it disappeared. Her stomach dropped. 

“Who exactly is Aria trying to impress?” Shepard asked. “The Alliance? It can’t be us.”

Vidal shrugged and kept silent, his smirk grew wider. He was enjoying every minute of this. The twins hurried out the moment the doors opened. Beyond the lift lobby was an empty office. One that looked like it was gutted, without walls, without lights, without the carpeting or furnishings. It was bare. Naked steel reinforcements as far as the eye could see.

That’s when Shepard spotted the familiar blue tactical armour of the biotics platoon. These were a bunch of hardcore soldiers trained for the frontline and crowd control. The silhouette was familiar, too familiar. Her hand jerked involuntarily to the dog tags but she forced her arm down. Sara and Scott flanked her warily, unsure their place in this entire situation. She brushed passed them and strode forward. 

The winds howled through the hollow space. The sky for once was clear, just wisps of black smoke in the distance. The sun struck the building at an angle and Aria was silhouetted against it. Black against gold, like Omega. Shadows lurking in the glitzy normalcy it promised. 

Shepard approached. Aria’s eyes met hers and that prompted the man to turn. A frown creasing his brow at first, his face cast in harsh shadows. But with each degree of his turn, she could see the grim lines that marked his mouth, eyes dulled by the years. Like a lightning bolt, recognition flickered across his eyes, they lit up like it wasn’t years since they saw each other. 

“Shepard, it really is you,” he gasped.

Shepard nodded, suddenly feeling awkward. She felt the press of the intervening years standing between them. “Alenko, I’m glad to see you’re still alive.”

He stiffened, “Not Kaidan anymore, huh?”

She opened her mouth to explain but he took a deep breath and offered her a small smile. “Same to you, I was so sure…”

“That I was dead?”

He looked away, the air suddenly heavy. Shepard chuckled, the sound bitter and sad. “I wasn’t so sure myself but here I am, still fucking alive.”

“I’m sorry, Shepard. We went back with reinforcements. And we found Ashley’s body.”

Her eyes squeezed shut at the mention of Ash. Her hand twitched, already making its way to the dogs tags but she took a deep breath and swallowed the lump forming in her throat. “Enough of that, that’s not why you’re here today.”

Alenko nodded, emotions shuttering behind the mask of professionalism. 

“So what happens now. I’m here, you know I’m me. What now?”

“I’ll radio back in for transport.”

“How long?”

“They’re just an hour out.”

Shepard nodded and made to leave, but Vidal barred their way. “Not so fast, Shepard,” Aria said, her boots scuffed against the unfinished floor. “Whatever this is, I want in.”

_There is it, the good old queen of Omega._

Alenko shot Aria a look of frustration. She laughed. It rang with the confidence of royalty. 

“You want in but there is nothing for you,” Shepard said. “Not in the way you would think anyway.”

The queen narrowed her eyes. “So you say, why are you looking for the Alliance if this isn’t big?” The twins shifted uncomfortably beside her while Aria bristled. “My services are not free, Shepard. I hope you’d remember that.”

“But you owe me don’t you?” her hand shifted to her pistol.

“That’s just arranging the meeting,” Aria growled, eyes flashing. 

Alenko inserted himself between them, his hands held out. “Enough! If it’s supplies you want just give me the list, I’ll see what I can do.”

“No, you’ll only take her and go. I want sureties.”

Shepard took a deep breath. Frustration and anger were tearing gashes into her withering patience. She should have been expecting this. But a pressure against her shoulder broke her line of thought. It was Sara. “Something is going on.”

Eyes glancing at Vidal and Aria, she realised they weren’t the focus of their attention anymore. They were listening to something on their comms channel. And whatever it was, it wasn’t good. 

Aria lifted her head, if she thought the Queen was pissed before, she couldn’t be more mistaken. The queen of Omega’s ire was up and her face was thunderous. “We’re being attacked!”

* * *

The ride down to the ground level was the longest Shepard ever had. Her fingers wrapped around her pistol while her other hand kept a tight hold on the bag. Somehow the bag seemed to weigh more now that its emptier, relieved of the medical supplies it used to hold. Two vials couldn’t possibly weigh that much. She glanced at Sara. Sara patted her pant’s pocket, indicating the vial was with her. Shepard nodded. 

Alenko sighed as he came off the comms. “The team is coming in now.”

Shepard nodded. They needed a hiding place to hole up while whatever as going on blew over. Her place would serve. It was the best they could do, better to be safe than sorry. Aria was busy barking orders through the comms. When the elevator doors opened, Aria whirled around on her. Palm flat against her chest and Aria slammed her against the elevator’s wall. “Why the fuck is zombies at my door?”

“It’s the end of the fucking world. Almost everyone else is infected with the Reaper virus,” she bucked, attempting to unseat Aria’s weight against her.

“Not here, not this many,” Aria growled. 

“How the fuck should I know,” she snarled, jamming her pistol against Aria’s ribs. 

Just like that the Queen whirled around, confident she wouldn’t shoot. “Vidal with me, activate Omega’s security. We’re not letting the fucking zombies win.”

Vidal headed off to carry out his queen’s wishes. But Aria lingered. As she hovered at the threshold, she spoke without turning. “Shepard, I do not want to see you in Omega ever again. Whatever this is, I hope it’s fucking worth it.”

_It is._

And Aria was gone. Alenko looked at Shepard. “What now Commander?”

She shuddered. “No, you’re in charge here Alenko. I am not your commander.”

* * *

They returned to her little hovel. The twins were having a hissed argument in a corner. Whatever it was, Sara wanted one thing, Scott the other. 

“Why do you want to stay in Omega? It’s not fucking safe,” Sara pointed out. 

“Following Shepard isn’t safe either. You’re just infatuated with her.”

Sara reddened. Shepard averted her eyes and pretended she wasn’t listening, checking and rechecking her pistol. Their voices grew muffled as they shifted. 

“I’m not fucking infatuated. She made her stance clear.”

“Then why? We’re safer here. I don’t want to throw my life away for this fucking miracle cure. I don’t trust it, I don’t trust her.”

“I want to help!” she threw her hands into the air, “I want to make a difference.”

“Are you still trying to throw your life away like Dad? He left us to fend for yourselves. He couldn’t accept Mum has turned. You-“

“No,” Sara spat, her chest heaving. “I want to help, I want to see a different world that comes after me. I want to matter. I don’t want to live and die just surviving.”

Scott went silent. 

Shepard couldn’t help but glance over her shoulder. This didn’t sound good. She wondered if she should intervene but they were nobody to her. They were strangers really. 

_Are you sure?_

Alenko glanced at her, jerking his chin at them. “What’s the deal with them?”

“People I’ve destroyed the lives of.”

“Still ever the bulldozer you’re, huh?”

Shepard grimaced and looked away. Before she could open her mouth to ask after people she knew, Scott shouted, “Fine! If that’s what you wanted, you go with her! There is nothing stopping you from doing what you wanted.”

“Scott, no!” Sara’s eyes welling up as she chewed on her lower lip. “We’re…”

“Twins?” All semblance of having a quiet quarrel went out the window. “In what world is there a rule twins got to stick together? Do what you want!”

“When the world is fucking ending! That’s when,” Sara cried. She stared at her brother, frustrated that she couldn’t make him see, angry that he was proposing the unthinkable. Her hand clutched the vial in her pocket.

Shepard couldn’t tear her eyes away. This was what she had wrought, destroying their home wasn’t enough, it seemed her sin extended to tearing siblings apart too. But the bark of gunfire made her flinched. It was getting closer. Their position wouldn’t be safe for long, sitting out of the fight wouldn’t be an option forever. 

She turned to Alenko. “What’s the team’s ETA?”

“15 minutes out.”

They exchanged a nod. Shepard shouldered her bag, fishing for a pair of keys from her pocket before she turned to the twins. “Scott, here’s the keys for this place. I can’t come back to Omega anymore. You might as well have it.”

Scott caught the keys deftly out of the air, his face a mask of conflicted anger. It was clear he wished he could take back words spoken in anger but pride refused to let him back down. 

Shepard took a deep breath. She would prefer the twins have the time to sort this out between themselves but time was running out. They had got to go. “What will it be?”

Sara stared at her brother, hot tears trailing down her face. She dashed them away furiously. Her jaw tight as she wrenched her eyes away. “I’m coming with you.”

Scott squeezed his eyes shut for a second and let out a sigh. “I’m not.” His hand reached out towards his sister, pulling her in for a rough hug. His lips moving as he whispered into her ear.

But before the moment ended, a blast rocked the building. “We’ve got to go,” Alenko barked, “now!”

Shepard nodded. “Alenko, take point.” The order left her lips before she could stop herself. 

_Old habits die hard._

Alenko grinned, not taking offence in the slightest. “Aye, Commander.”

She turned to the twins. The die was cast. She had taken command whether she intended to or not. “You two, behind me. Scott I can’t promise there is any where safe left on Omega. I’m not about to let you walk to certain death.”

He nodded curtly, anger and resentment flashing in his eyes. Three pairs of eyes looked at her, waiting for her signal. Her jaw twitched. 

“Let’s go.”

* * *

Shepard pressed her back against cover, popping up to take careful aim. Her pistol bucked in her hand once, twice. The zombie’s head exploded, brain matter, bone and blood splattered across the field. But cut one down, two replaced it. She bared her teeth and soldiered on. Sweaty hair plastered to her forehead, the vials snugged inside her bag, the dog tags jingling with every move she made. “I will not fall here,” she growled. 

_You better not._

“Fuck, Alenko,” she shouted. “Where is the way out?”

“The gates!”

“Are you sure there is only one way?”

“Yes!” he shouted, his rifle taking out the pair flanking the twins. “Trust me, the Alliance had tried.”

“Fuck, that means we’re going to look for more zombies?” Sara cried.

“Yup,” Alenko replied grimly. 

Shepard reached back and Alenko slapped a spare magazine into her hand. They fought like a well oiled machine, falling back into patterns ingrained into muscle memory. But she missed the boom of a sniper rifle overhead, she missed knowing someone was watching her six.

“Last chance, Scott,” she said as she fired her weapon. “We’re heading for the gates. It’s dangerous. If you’re not leaving Omega, you shouldn’t come.”

“I’m not leaving Sara until I know she is safe,” Scott declared, shifting to cover his sister as she reloaded. 

“Scott, you don’t have to do this. Putting yourself at risk like this,” Sara’s shotgun boomed. Offal and gore splattered her clothes and she grimaced. 

“You can’t stop me,” Scott growled, lobbing a grenade. The resulting blast showered all of them with dirt despite being behind cover. 

“But-“

“Stop it,” Shepard spat. “We’re moving.”

The gates were hotly contested. Aria’s trademark white and black armour glinted in the sun. She was holed up inside the tower at the gates built just for this purpose. A missile launcher braced against her shoulder. The Queen was defending her realm. Gunfire and literal fire rained down on the hordes. The missile impacted into the horde, blasting them into bits. But the zombies clambered over their dead without care. There was only the need for fresh meat and human blood that drove them. Waves upon waves threw themselves against the gates. Sooner or later it was going to give.

Shepard stared at the mess of bodies piling high. Before this would have been a victory but with the vials weighing heavy in her bag, this was just a waste of life. These were people that could come back. They were no different from Ash. She grunted, shoving the flash of Ash’s face out of her mind. She couldn’t afford to be distracted, people were depending on her. 

“Focus,” she growled under her breath. 

Shepard crested a small hill made by rubble. Through the smoke and fires, something beyond the gates caught her attention. But before she could point it out, the wall next to the gates blasted inwards. Chunks of concrete and hot metal zipped by overhead as she ducked. The heat was a physical force that slammed into them. The explosion ricocheted across Omega, amplifying and echoing. It sounded like a death rattle. In poured people dressed in a familiar white and gold colours. 

“Cerberus!” Shepard shouted. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

Alenko frowned. “What the hell do you have with you Shepard?”

“The cure, Alenko, the fucking cure!”

Disbelief and doubt crossed his face. She had the same expression when Maelon spoke to her. “Would Cerberus fucking do this,” her hand gesturing at the hole in the wall, troops streaming through it, “if this wasn’t the real deal? They have been chasing us since I fucking got it.”

“Fuck, Shepard. Just…,” Alenko ran his hand through his hair. “Fuck.”

“Eloquently put,” she growled. “Come on, we’re sitting ducks.”

As they moved, she spotted Kai Leng and Morinth coming through. Cerberus troops fanned out and dealt with the zombies while the pair broke out in a sprint towards them. 

“Shit.”

* * *

It all went wrong quickly. Gunfire were exchanged, ammo ran low. Kai Leng and Morinth targetted Sara. And something small, something fragile and red tumbled out of Sara’s pocket as she made a mad scramble for cover.

“Why the fuck did she not secure it?” Shepard snarled. 

Morinth was on Sara like a tiger on its prey. Hands grabing and fumbling, legs kicking and twisting. 

“Sara!” Scott shouted, aiming his shotgun at Morinth. But any shot he could get would injure his sister as much as Morinth. There was no safe shot in the tangle of limbs. With a growl, he rushed the Cerberus agent, shotgun swinging like a club. 

Kai Leng growled and lifted his rifle. He had no such compunction to keep his partner safe. His fingers twitched towards the trigger. Shepard shrugged off her bag, leaving it with Alenko. “Cover me!”

He flinched as Shepard fired her pistol, closing the distance between them. Infuriatingly, her pistol clicked empty after a couple of shots. 

“Fucking rookie mistake,” she spat. 

But it did its job. She had Kai Leng’s full attention. Black helmet with only a slit of clear visor to see through, she could almost see the feral rage of being thwarted in the shadows within. Rifle swinging around towards her, she slammed into him with all the force of a raging bull. 

They fell hard. His helmet tumbled from his head, its buckle breaking in the fall. Air rushed out of her lungs as the hard plates of his armour dug into her leather jacket. Shepard refused to let that slow her. Arms wrapped around his neck, she squeezed. A choked wheeze came but a knee stuck her stomach. Her grip jarred loose as she cradled her middle, gasping for air. And Kai Leng gained his feet, a grin on his face. She swept out with her feet, tangling with his. He slammed face first back into the dirt. 

She made a grab for his rifle. Her arms burnt as she smashed her fist into his unprotected face over and over. But his grip was sure. Her muscles screamed but she wouldn’t, couldn’t stop. They tussled for rifle. Move and counter move. Then, something slammed into her gut, sharp and painful. Pain travelled up and down the length of her body. She wanted to curl in on herself but her fingers found purchase on his face. Spurred on by pain, fingers dug and scratched and wrenched. Thumb into eye and Kai Leng screamed. It was pitched high and loud but it sounded sweet to Shepard’s ears. 

_Deeper, deeper, deeper!_

His grip finally faltering and he let go. 

Morinth, in a moment of distraction, looked over from her fight. Her chest erupted in red. An arched back, a strangled cry and she fell. Alenko had taken the shot. 

“No!” Kai Leng screamed, his own pain forgotten, he lunged towards her for his rifle. 

Shepard twisted, bringing the rifle to bear but her legs buckled. A cry ripped from her throat as the rifle went flying. Fingers digging into the dirt, she reached towards it. Cerberus troops swarm their position, forcing Alenko behind cover. Kai Leng’s face was a mask of fury as he lifted the rifle. 

“Sara!” Scott shouted. 

Time slowed. All Shepard could do was watch. Kai Leng’s rifle bucked once. The flash of fear across Sara’s face made her freckles stand out against her skin. The vial was in her hand as she turned to run. Scott screaming. His hands outstretched as he jumped. Then it was all over in a flash. The twins fell, Scott over Sara, Sara over the vial. The vial, so fragile, so important, pressed between the hard ground and two bodies shattered. Shepard gasped.

“Scott, no, no, no!” Sara screamed. 

The look of utter pain and suffering on Sara’s face fuelled Shepard. She forced herself onto her feet. This time her legs held. Adrenaline still coursing through her veins, she rushed Kai Leng. But Cerberus troops opened fire forcing her back. Teeth gnashed she watched as Kai Leng retreated, his forces covering him, leaving his partner behind.

The skin across her knuckles broke and bleeding, body sore and stiff, Shepard straightened. Danger wasn’t over. The zombies were still coming in though. “We can’t stay,” she grunted.

Shepard flinched when she stumbled over. Things were bad. Sara cradled Scott’s head, blood staining her arms and clothes. “Please, please, please,” she pleaded. 

Alenko brushed passed Shepard towards Sara. “Staunch the bleeding!”

There was too much blood to see properly. It’s hard to tell where the source was. Sara pulled her shirt off and pressed it against Scott’s head. Tears mingling with the blood. Alenko adjusted her hands. “Press,” he barked. “Harder!”

She re-doubled her effort. Scott didn’t even groan. He was dead to the world. Shepard handed Alenko the Quickclot from her belt. He tore the packet with his teeth and worked quickly. The red was still spreading. 

Shepard’s heart clenched. Where were the vials? She turned and staggered towards her bag. Her heart didn’t stop racing even after she found the vials. 

“Shepard, the team is here,” Alenko reported.

She nodded when a familiar voice called out. “Shepard?” 

“Vega,” she greeted, relief making her legs wobbly. 

“It’s really you, Lola!” His smile faded as she gestured him towards Scott. “Oh fuck. He’s a goner. There is no point taking him with us,” he blurted. 

“He is alive!” Sara snarled, eyes burnt with a ferocity Shepard hadn’t seen before. “You owe us, Shepard. You owe my brother this.”

She glanced at Alenko. His fingers were pressed against Scott’s pale neck. He nodded, indicating he could feel a pulse. 

A pulse like Ash’s, his heart was still beating like Ash’s. Ash’s face flashed over Scott’s for a spilt second. Her jaw clenched. “Vega, take him now. We’re leaving,” forcing steel into her voice.

Vega didn’t question her orders, or her legitimacy to give them. He scooped Scott up and Sara hurried along, blood stained hands pressed against her brother’s head. Shepard staggered in their wake. It was only then pain was registering. Her side was on fire, every step was a jolt of pain flaring to life. Alenko took one look at her and his eyes widened. “You’re shot!”

_Are you?_

Shepard looked down, lifting the bag away to find her shirt wet and stuck to her skin. They were stained a dark red. “Shit,” she grimaced, legs giving out suddenly. 

Alenko was already there, pulling one of her arm over his shoulder, wrapping the other around her waist. “Come on.”

The Mako marked in Alliance colours was just a short distance away but felt like the other side of the world. By the time Alenko shoved her into the back, her head was spinning, her vision darkening. The fire crawling towards her chest as her heart lurched and thumped against the abuse. 

The others were speaking but their voices were far away. Shepard’s head lolled when the Mako lurched into motion. Her eyes fell upon the twins. Her eyes met Sara’s. All she could see in Sara’s eyes was regret. Regret for coming to Omega, regret for allowing Shepard to spend the night at their home, regret for taking Maelon at her request, but most of all regret for ever meeting her. 

“I’m sorry,” was all Shepard could offer. 


	5. Citadel

Shepard didn’t know when the Mako stopped. It only registered when the door she was leaning against was wrenched open and she slid out with it. Instead of hitting the ground, a pair of arms caught her. 

“Got you Lola.”

She blinked. Her head fuzzy and heavy, like it didn’t belonged to her. A stretcher was brought to her. People were hurrying over. 

“No,” she protested. “Scott first.”

Sara was screaming for help. Her voice was hoarse and ragged. Every shout of “please” was a stab to Shepard’s chest. It was a plea familiar and painful. 

The doctor hesitated. Vega hovered between putting her on the stretcher and holding her. “Scott first!” she barked. The ring of command coming through again. The doctor complied and Scott was whisked away with Sara trailing behind. 

“Put me down, Vega.” This time her voice quieter but no less steady. 

“Are you sure?”

“I can walk.”

Vega sighed and gingerly let her legs down but he kept a hand around her waist. She took her first step and regretted it instantly. White hot agony lanced up her side, but her knees held and that was good enough. Eyes tracing the white and gleaming steel structure, she realised they were at the Citadel. 

“Is Anderson still alive?” she asked, half afraid of the answer.

“Yes, the Major went to report to him.”

Shepard’s eyebrow rose. She hadn’t realise Alenko had a few promotions since but it made sense. He was a good office. He deserved it. 

“Lola, you don't look good. Med-bay first then the Council,” that didn’t came across as a suggestion. 

But Vega was right. Her head was pounding, she could feel her heart skipping and stuttering. She pressed a hand against side; still wet, still bleeding. 

_Not good, Shep._

“I know,” she whispered. 

“Good that you know Lola,” Vega said. “This way.”

“But-“

“No buts,” he insisted.

He reached out to take the bag from her. Her hand went jerked reflexively towards her pistol before she remembered it was empty. 

“Woah, woah, Lola. Relax. I’m just going to help you carry this.”

Shepard forced herself to relax and allowed him to take it. As he shouldered the bag, her fingers lacing between the webbing of his armour as she tugged him closer. “Keep it safe. Nobody touches it but me,” she growled.

Vega blanched a little. “All right, I swear,” he said, crossing his heart. “What’s inside? Gold?”

“Something like that.”

As they approached the med-bay, an unfamiliar person burst through the doors, white coat flapping in the wake of displaced air. Blue eyes glanced over Shepard's wobbly form. “Get her inside. And on the table now.” she barked with the ease of someone expecting to be obeyed. Before Shepard could speak, she was scooped off her feet again and placed on the examination table. 

“Lola, you're in good hands. I'll keep your stuff safe.” And he was gone.

“Name’s T’Perro,” the doctor said flatly, hands were already snapping on latex gloves and wielding a pair of medical shears. 

“Shepard,” she hissed through her clenched teeth as an introduction. 

“I know, I've heard all about you. The Alliance’s golden girl, Hero of the Blitz and Butcher of Torfan,” T’Perro replied, shears ripped through Shepard’s shirt. The doctor tsked. “Your pants going to have to go too.”

She squeezed her eyes shut, body quivering from a mix of pain and cold. It seemed no matter how far she ran, she always came crawling back to the Alliance. 

“You're bleeding out,” T’Perro noted.

“I know.”

The movement stopped. The doctor sighed, it was a sound part frustration, part long suffering. A sound Shepard knew well having been the source of much frustration. A sharp pain lanced up her arm. “Saline,” T’Perro said. “Chakwas is working on the other one.”

“Good.” The hands returned to her side, probing and pressing. “Fuck…” she cursed, flinched away. 

“Hold still,” T’Perro growled, poking again before she said, “I’m flipping you over, give me a hand.”

Shepard opened her eyes, blinking away pain. She gripped the edge of the examination table. Muscles across her abs tightened, her vision darkened as she pulled herself onto her side. T’Perro helped by pushing from behind. She hissed as the cold hand returned to probing her bare back. “No exit wound, not good.”

“What now?” she gasped, wishing she could give in to the darkness and just let go. Her head was buzzing like bees had invaded her brain. The pain spiked as T’Perro helped her back onto her back. 

“I’m going to have to operate.”

“Figures, supplies?”

That’s when T’Perro grimaced. “I’ll adding some pain meds into your IV. I’ll be right back. I’ll send in Vega to look in on you.” Before she left, she lay a blanket over Shepard’s body. It was scant protection against the chill in the air. 

Shepard’s eyes sagged shut involuntarily. She tried to will away the pain, taking slow and deliberate breaths. There was a slight breeze in the air and the music in her head soared. 

**Because I want to know how it feels to hang pictures on a wall  
Sleep in the same bed at night**

It felt like fingers cupping her face. A warm breath caressing her forehead. “Is that you, Ash?” It’s a question left unanswered.

**I want reasons to stay**

Her brow tightened, her fists clenched as pain flared with every breath she took. “Maybe it’s ok to let go?”

**I want someone to take up my time,  
And miss me when I go**

That was a sudden shift in the warm breeze. And just like that, it’s gone. 

“Ash…” A plea, a request, a hope and a prayer all at once.

There was no answer. Without the warmth, she surrendered to the darkness. 

* * *

_It’s not time yet, love. You have a job to do._

“Ash!” Shepard shouted. 

Consciousness arrived not in waves but sudden, all at once and overwhelming. She surged upright then the pain hit. White, hot and searing, she gasped, her breath couldn’t quite come. Her head spun and bile rose. 

There was a rustling of fabric and the door opened and closed. “Doctor, she’s awake!” More fabric and then a pressure against her shoulders. Her eyes blinking but they couldn’t clear. Blurry tears marred her vision. 

“You should lie back.”

She recognised Alenko’s voice, relaxing a fraction. Her muscles unclenched and she let herself be pushed back onto the bed. “Where am I?”

“The recovery room. You’re just out of surgery. We didn’t have enough medical supplies to keep you under for longer. Pain meds are in short supply.”

Shepard nodded, vision clearing. She figured as much. “How long was I out?”

“A few hours,” Alenko said, sitting on the chair just next to her cot. His gaze gentle with questions lingering behind. He opened and closed his mouth seeking right words but not finding them. In the end, he sighed, “How are you really?”

_How are you really?_

She scrubbed her face with her hands. It was a loaded question. “Surviving,” she replied honestly, shying away from the ‘just barely’ that lay on the tip of her tongue. “I’m mostly fine, you know. You just happened to catch me on my worst day.”

He chuckled, eyes crinkling. There were crowfeet at the ends now. She didn't remember them being there before. “If you say so, Shep.”

The door creaked opened and it was T’Perro. The doctor Shepard had expected, but not the man that trailed behind her. “Anderson, it’s good to see you sir.”

“Likewise, Shepard.”

She shifted, trying to sit up again, but T’Perro made a frustrated noise. Stethoscope in hand, the doctor lifted her shirt. She flinched at the cold metal against her bare skin. T’Perro sighed after checking on the dressing that winded around her middle. “Normally I’ll keep you on anti-biotics to stave away any chance of infection given the state of our facilities and have you on some proper pain meds.”

“But you don’t have enough for me. And I’m not Alliance anymore, you don’t have the authority to requisite any for me,” she completed. “I know the rules, ma’am.” 

T’Perro grimaced. The doctor shot Anderson a look. He was the one who could override these rules. He asked, “Shepard, are you back with us?”

She laughed before gasping. The motion sent spikes of pain to her side. “Not happening, Anderson. You know that. There is nothing for me.”

“But you could do so much good. You did so much good before…”

“Yeah before. I’m not the same person I was. I can’t do that any more.”

Anderson sighed and rubbing his forehead. The years hadn’t been kind to anyone. But Shepard figured, life was being charitable because they were all still here, hanging on when so many others had fallen. Nobody died of old age anymore. One was either turned by the zombies, murdered for whatever shitty thing another wanted more or just died because one was too plain dumb to stay alive. 

A shout pierced the relative quiet. Everyone flinched, hands going to weapons. Reflexes trained by the Alliance, honed by the zombies, snapped into action instantly. But Shepard recognised the voice. It was Sara. 

“Scott, how is he?” Muffled words came through the door. 

Shepard tensed. She could guess what had happened while she was out. Gritting her teeth, she gestured towards Alenko. “Help me up and get Vega here with my stuff.” 

“I do not recommend you standing so soon after surgery. You’re bound to rip your stitches,” T’Perro warned. 

“This can’t wait.”

As she staggered towards the door, she could hear T’Perro muttering. “Soldiers, think they’re invincible or something.”

_Not invincible, just fucking stupid._

* * *

Shepard managed to get out of the door without screaming. Her body was either getting used to the pain or it had gone numb on her. Her side was all tingly, pins and needles. If this was as good as it was going to get, she would take it. 

It seemed she was in a recovery room right next to a makeshift operating theatre. Sara was on her knees, her hands clutching at the pants of an unfamiliar man. “Please, he’s my brother. Please just authorise the meds. He needs it.”

The man looked down at Sara. His voice nasally and high pitched as he pushed a pair of gold rimmed glasses up his nose. “I understand your situation but you’re not Alliance, neither is your brother. We have to keep the meagre supplies for our soldiers.”

It was the wrong thing to say. Anyone with the least bit of compassion would know that. Sara’s grief flashed to rage in a split second. “This is why people hate the Alliance. You just want fodder to feed your machine. Promising meds, food? What good is it if the citizens you’re supposed to be protecting are dying by the hundreds, thousands from the lack of said supplies? You guys are tyrants, murderers! All of you!”

Sara’s eyes found Shepard’s. The look of utter hate and regret slammed into her. If Alenko wasn’t taking half her weight, she’d have staggered backwards by the force of it. 

_Not your fault._

“It is,” she muttered under her breath. Nobody heard it. 

The man sniffed at Sara. “Just be grateful we will do what we can to make him comfortable.”

Sara surged to her feet, fingers clawing at the man’s face. Shepard braced herself against the wall, allowing Alenko to act. He wrapped his arms around Sara who struggled like her life depended on it. 

_Her brother’s life depended on it._

“Tann!” Anderson barked. “Get the fuck out of here now!”

The man was quick to make his escape as Shepard drilled a hole to the back of his head, wishing she could punch him without undoing all of T’Perro’s work. The doors to the operating theatre opened and a white haired doctor emerged, her eyes darting as she searched the small crowd gathered. 

“Who’s the next of kin to the man inside?” she asked, her forehead lined and weary but her eyes still bright. 

“I am!” Sara fought free of Alenko’s arms, rushing forward. 

“Come with me.”

The pair entered the operating theatre and Shepard made to follow. “Where are you going?” Anderson asked. 

“To see this through,” she replied. “And where’s my stuff?”

Alenko straightened. “I’ll go find Vega.”

She pushed off from the wall, wavering a little, but she managed to stay on her feet. Anderson took her arm and helped her forward. “Stubborn fool,” he muttered under his breath. 

She chuckled. “You could just give me pain meds,” she pointed out as she gamely walked into the operating theatre. 

Inside, the air was chill, the tension palpable. Shepard’s eyes drawn towards the body lying on the cold steel table under harsh operating theatre lights. The lights turned Scott’s already ashen skin near bloodless. Tubes snaking into his body disappearing under the white sheet. His chest rose and fell with mechanical efficiency as the machine breathed for him. His head wrapped with heavy bandages and blood was already soaking through. 

Shepard flinched as Sara let out a wail. “It’s my fault, all my fault. We shouldn’t have taken the job. Scott, I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

Every apology was a stab of recrimination. Taking a deep breath, she turned to Chakwas. “Is there anything you can do for him?”

The white haired doctor shook her head. “He needs a neurologist. And we don’t have one. T’Perro, Caryle and myself are not skilled in anything quite so specialised. We got him on life support now. Theoretically we could keep him under but we’re running low on anaesthetics. With the supplies being what they are, I don’t know how long we can maintain this,” she glanced at her patient and grimaced. Anger, regret and frustration flickered across her face. “It would be a mercy at this point if he doesn’t wakes.”

“So this isn’t about supplies? This is about expertise?”

“Let me just say, I’m not about to let someone die on my watch if it’s a matter of supplies.”

Shepard nodded grimly. Chakwas was a good doctor and an even better person. If it came down to it, she’ll show Tann the finger if he dared complain about dwindling supplies. “What are the options?”

Chakwas turned away, grief and pain flickered across her face. She didn’t speak. But Shepard was able to read between the lines. 

“Mercy killing?” she whispered, the words tasted bitter on her tongue. She stared at her hand, the one that gripped the blade that ended Ash’s life. Hand curling in on itself, she’d knew all about mercy killings.

“Options?” Nobody would speak. She tightened her grip on Anderson’s arm. “Options? This must have happened before. Not just civilians but Alliance too. What are the options?”

Anderson took a deep breath and met her eyes. “Normally, we’d dose them with morphine, enough for an overdose. But…”

“You need it for the living?”

He nodded, face turned away in shame. 

Had things gotten this bad? She didn’t realised because she had ran away. If the Alliance were running low on supplies, what about the civilians? If human conclaves like Omega fell, there would be nothing left to rebuild. Cure or no cure, the Reaper virus would have won. 

Shepard took a steady breath. “What if we pull the plug?”

“He might still be strong enough to breathe for himself. We just don’t know,” Chakwas explained. “Just because he is seemingly unconscious doesn’t mean he doesn’t experience pain. 

“Fuck,” Shepard growled, she glanced at Sara. The younger woman was pressing her face against her brother’s hand, weeping as she whispered to him. Shepard’s took a deep breath and glanced at Anderson. “Can you spare a bullet then?”

At this, he nodded. 

Chakwas closed her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I can’t be here for this,” she turned towards the door. She patted Shepard’s shoulder, “We should speak after this.”

Shepard nodded, her eyes flinty and hard, already steeling herself what needed to be done. “Can you give us the room?”

Anderson looked pointedly at her heavily bandaged side. It was thankfully still numb but every step she took sent a jolt of electricity through her abused body. “It’s fine,” she said, taking a couple of steps on her own. 

“I’ll be outside,” he pulled his sidearm from his holster and handed it to her. 

She accepted it. It was cold and heavy. It held the weight of a soul. The door was closed and latched with a note of finality behind him. 

“Sara,” she called shuffling slowly closer. 

Sara didn’t respond, her head was bowed. Her skin was stretched stark white across her knuckles, her hand clamped over her brother’s still arm. Tears stained the thin sheet over Scott’s body. His eyes were closed. If it wasn’t for the bandages around his swollen head, she’d think he was asleep. 

“Sara,” she tried again. 

This time, Sara lifted her head. Anguish colouring her eyes, her lower lip trapped between her teeth. “What do I do? I don’t have any supplies to barter for medical care. Shepard, tell me what do I do?”

The ache in her chest returned. It was near unbearable. Shepard crossed the distance between them with a couple of steps and wrapped her arms around Sara. It was like a dam breaking, Sara silent tears turned into gut-wrenching sobs. Shepard didn’t know how long they stood there. Her legs was sore, her arms ached, but she refused to be the first to break the contact. For as long as Sara needed it, she’d provide. 

When the tears stopped, Sara’s body still trembled. As her arms loosened, she gasped. “I didn’t know you’re this badly hurt!” 

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” Shepard keeping her hand on Sara’s shoulder more out of necessity at this point. Her mind churned, how was she supposed to tell her that her brother was already dead. How was she supposed to tell her, they needed to put him out of his misery? Was there a way to say all that and not have it hurt?

_It hurts, it all hurts._

“He’s dying isn’t he?” Sara asked. “I’m not stupid or deaf. I heard your conversation.”

Shepard let out a shuddering breath and nodded. “They don’t have the doctors to help him. Either way, he’d only suffer.”

“It’s my fault,” Sara said, her voice were shards of broken glass turned inwards. “I should have stayed at Omega. I…”

“Stop, stop, stop,” Shepard said, tightening her grip on Sara’s shoulder. “There is no good at the end of this road. The world has gone to shit. It’s not anyone’s fault.”

Sara nodded, but the guilt on her face showed she remained unconvinced. Her jaw twitched as her hands clenched and unclenched. “Can I have some time with my brother?”

Shepard nodded. “Remember you don’t have to do this yourself. I’ll be here,” she said, voice breaking. “I’m sorry for everything.”

_It’s not your fault, Shep._

“It’s not your fault,” Sara growled. “It’s mine.”

The vehemency took her by surprise, but her own guilt still weighed heavy against her chest. “All right, I’ll be right outside.”


	6. Death and Hope

When Shepard stepped out, she found Alenko and Vega waiting for her. Vega had her bag with him. “Anderson has convened the Council,” Alenko said. “They’re waiting for you.”

“But he didn’t even know why I’m here,” she remarked. 

“He knows you,” Alenko said.

_Touché._

Shepard sighed. “Can I get some real clothes?”

It took a little while to find something that fit her. Said clothes turned out to be a slightly too large N7 hoodie and matching sweat pants. 

“Just like old times, eh?” Vega said. 

She huffed, already sweating from the effort of dressing. Her side was waking up. And she dreaded when the pain meds was out of her system. 

“Alenko, could you watch Sara for me?”

“What’s her brother’s name?”

“Scott, Scott Ryder,” she replied. 

He nodded. The furrows across his forehead looked near permanent. “I’ll watch her.”

“Vega, let’s go.” 

* * *

Vega glanced at her as she hesitated at the door. Everything was familiar, achingly so. The hallways were filled with people dressed in Alliance blue, the Citadel was still a seat of power despite its diminished circumstance. But her eyes kept searching for a face that no longer roamed these halls. Ash wasn’t at the armoury cleaning her rifle. Ash wasn’t in the canteen complaining about the food, stealing food right off her plate. Ash was neither the soldier with a brown ponytail that passed her earlier, nor was she the one who stopped to salute her. 

_You know this would hurt._

Shepard took a shuddering breath. “Okay.”

At that, Vega rapped his knuckles against the door and twisted the knob. She released his arm and strode into the room with a stiffened spine. 

_Just like old times._

Arrayed before her was the Council. Udina, older and greyer but he still looked at her with a twist in his lips. 

_Probably still haven’t forgiven you for Torfan._

Shepard dismissed the oily bureaucrat, vaguely disappointed to see him still alive. Her eyes slid over to see Tevos and Sparatus staring at her. Sparatus with wide eyed surprise, while Tevos’ face was closed off. It was impossible to tell what she thought about Shepard’s arrival. 

“Shepard,” Anderson greeted. “I was about to send someone for you.”

“Sir,” she said, before nodding at the others. “Council.”

“I’m surprised to see you still alive, given the circumstances of your departure,” Udina said. “I never expected to see you again.”

Shepard frowned and took a deep breath. It was time to do what she came here for. She motioned for her bag and Vega placed it on the table. It started the journey relatively well worn, bulging with supplies. And now at the end, it was battered, bloodstained and just a limp sad little sack. But it held the most precious thing in the world. 

Without a word, she pulled the vials out, relieved that they were all still intact. All eyes honed in on them as she set them carefully on the table. 

“What is it?” Udina asked. “Why are you wasting our time? We should have you arrested for deserting and not be wasting our medical supplies on you or the boy.”

She ignored the blustering fool. Years had passed and still he hadn’t change. 

_You’re the fool if you expected change._

A snort threatened to bubble up but she swallowed it. It would do her claims no good if she started laughing hysterically. The Council would promptly throw her out. 

“This is the cure.”

And the Council erupted. 

“What lies!” Udina shouted. “Anderson, you convened this session for this joke?”

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” Anderson hissed. 

“Where did you get it from?” Sparatus demanded, hands thumping against the table. The vials wobbled, he blanched. Shepard caught them before they toppled, shooting him a look. 

Tevos was the only one silent. She braced herself against the table before straightening to walk over. The others fell silent. She took one of the vials from Shepard’s hand. 

“Where did you get them from?”

“Maelon Heplorn, Cerberus scientist.”

“Where is he?”

“Dead, murdered.”

_Self defence._

Tevos nodded sagely as if she had expected Shepard’s answer. Udina took the vial from her as she turned towards Vega. “Get me Carlyle and Chakwas,” she ordered.

“Is it really true?” Sparatus asked, taking the other vial gingerly in his hands. 

Shepard forced herself not to snatch the vials out of their hands. “I’ve been chased by Cerberus since I got the fucking things,” she said, voice flat and tired. “Ask Alenko, he was there when they attacked Omega. Cerberus is gunning for the vials and,” she glared at Udina at this, “Scott Ryder protected them. He is a hero, his sister too.”

Sparatus nodded at Anderson who was promptly radioing for Alenko. 

“Kai Leng and Morinth,” she said. “Do you know who they are?”

Sparatus stiffened. “These are high level Cerberus operatives.”

“Well you can forget about Morinth, she’s dead,” Shepard reported. 

The door opened and in entered a dark hair silver fox, he somehow managed to good despite the lack of hair products. Shepard assumed that’s Carlyle. And Chakwas followed quickly behind.

Udina stood, chair scraping against the floor. “Shepard here, says she has the cure. I want to test this. Do we still have any live subjects?”

Carlyle nodded. “We have recovered one two days ago. It took quite an effort to acquire the subject.”

“Let’s test it now,” Udina suggested. “It’s the best way to know if this really works.”

Shepard nodded and took the vial from Sparatus and popped it into her bag. Vega carefully shouldered the bag, suddenly afraid of the content it held. They descended into the bowels of the Citadel, these were parts even Shepard never ventured. Prisoners used to be housed here but apparently it had since been turned into a makeshift lab. 

Shrieking screams pierced her ears, guttural growls made her flinch, hand reaching for a pistol that’s not there. “Vega, where are my stuff? Pistol and shit.”

“In the armoury. I was cleaning it earlier for you.”

Shepard squeezed Vega’s considerable bicep in thanks. 

Carlyle led them to a cell block. Cells with clear doors separating the humans from the zombies lined the place. There was only one cell occupied. Corrupted flesh almost shiny under the harsh lights, blue eyes glowered at them. It prowled its cell like a tiger caged. Back and forth, back and forth, each pass made Shepard twitch. 

“Shouldn’t we analyse the cure first?” Chakwas asked. “Live testing is pre-mature—”

Udina sliced the air with his hand. “Vega, I want you to arrest Shepard if this doesn’t work.”

“Listen here, Udina—” Anderson started. 

“Enough,” Tevos shouted. Her voice echoed down the otherwise empty hallway. “Let’s see this.”

Chakwas sighed and squeezed the bridge of her nose while Carlyle signalled to someone unseen. The zombie went from alert and active to drowsy and then it slumped onto the ground. Shepard realised that’s what their supply of anesthetic had been used for. 

A pair of soldiers went in to restrain the zombie using a series of cable ties and handcuffs. Udina turned to Carlyle and gestured impatiently. The doctor snapped on a pair of latex gloves and twisted the top of vial, an injector with a wicked needle protruded from it. The needle gauge was wide and it gleamed in the light. He entered the cell lips curled against the unmistakable stench of unwashed bodies and rotting flesh. Fingers probing along the zombie’s neck looking for a major artery. He glanced once more at his audience. 

“Do it,” Tevos ordered. 

Carlyle plunged the needle into the zombie’s neck. The contents emptied itself into the zombie. He gestured at the soldiers and all three retreated back to the other side of the sealed door. They waited. Seconds ticked by. Shepard held her breath. 

Nothing happened. 

Then, a scream so otherworldly Shepard wasn’t sure it came from the zombie. It undulated high then low into a moan. The zombie started convulsing, body writhing in stiff jerky motion. Its eyes wide and staring but Shepard knew it didn’t see them. Even from the distance they stood, she could tell the corruption was retreating from the zombie’s skin, the blue glow was fading. A face emerged from beneath. 

_It’s fucking working._

“It’s working,” Udina echoed. 

Vega’s grip on her arm tightened. It took minutes for the corruption to completely vanished. Anderson shuffled closer towards the cell. “I recognise her,” he said. “That’s Solane Kelly. She was sent out on a patrol months ago. She went MIA.”

Carlyle and Chakwas were already discussing the results. The Council had their own concerns and worry. Shepard sighed. Her work was done. This was out of her hands. Now all they had to do was to figure out a way to disperse this last vial into the atmosphere. 

Vega’s radio crackled. He cocked his head and listened for a moment. “Sara is calling for you,” he said.

Shepard’s heart sank, she nodded. “Anderson,” she called out, offering the last vial to him after retrieving it from Vega. 

Her old CO looked at her with a strange mix of horror and hope on his face. She flinched. A weight seemed to press down on her shoulder and it was near unbearable. In the end, he straightened and said, “Keep it. I trust you to keep it safe,” he said, shooting a look over his shoulder at the rest of the Council. 

She took a deep breath and nodded, stuffing the last hope for humanity into her bag. “Vega, let’s go.”

* * *

Shepard was slowing. Her side was a big ball of pain. “Hey Lola, maybe you want to take it easy? You have just save the entire human race after all,” Vega said, taking more and more of her weight as he helped her along. 

She chuckled. “All I am is a glorified delivery person. I did nothing special or remarkable.”

“You came, didn’t you?”

“If that’s all it takes to save the human race, yeah sure,” she grunted. “That’s a low bar.”

Shepard’s footsteps faltered as they neared. Dread coiling in her guts. The pistol was still tucked into the waist band of her borrowed clothes. She pushed through the doors without waiting. Inside, she could hear Alenko’s gentle voice speaking and Sara’s stifled sniffles in response. 

“Sara,” she called out. 

Sara looked up. “What do I need to do?” Her gaze steady though still swimming with pain and grief. 

Shepard drew the pistol. Cold steel burnt her palm. There was no point in mincing words. The truth was ugly, reality was shit, life was fucked up, but it’s preferable over lies and dishonesty. If nothing else, Ash taught her that much. Her mind recoiled from the flash of choked words, eyes wide with pain. 

Sara stiffened at the sight of the pistol. She took a shuddering breath as she reached out for it. But Shepard pulled it away. One hand gripping Sara’s shoulder, she said, “You don’t have to do it.”

The unspoken offer laid out before them. Nobody spoke. It was just the hissing from the ventilator and the steady beep of the heart rate monitor. 

“But-” 

“Trust me, you don’t want to do it.” Her countenance was grim. Nothing was the same since Ash. Shepard couldn’t regret doing what she promised Ash. She couldn’t, but every breath had tasted wrong, every sunrise too dim, nights too long. Everything was ill-fitting and off. “I can do it. Let his blood stain my hands.”

Sara’s jaw clenched, the muscles playing over her skin. “Can someone remove these things? It’s not right to see him like this,” she said. 

Shepard’s eyes flicked over to Alenko. He bustled out quickly. It took mere minutes to get T’Perro in. Her lips were pressed thin as she looked at Shepard, disapproval was radiating from the doctor. T’Perro turned towards Sara and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. “You shouldn’t look,” she suggested. 

Sara nodded and exited. Shepard remained where she was. For one thing she didn’t think her legs would make the journey out and then back in again. T’Perro frowned and gestured her towards a chair. She sank into it gratefully. The doctor worked quickly detaching the monitors and switching them off. Tubes and IVs were the next to go. She arranged the sheet covering his body nicely and put his arms on his stomach. Scott looked almost at peace but his chest rose and fall more erratically now. 

T’Perro sighed, a grimace twisting her face. “Make it quick. He suffers.”

_He does._

“I know.”

She left and Sara returned without Alenko. Shepard didn’t speak, she just watched. Sara reached out to her brother, hand brushing at the small tufts of hair not hidden under bandages. Her hand rested against his chest. Undoubtedly, feeling his heartbeat beneath her hand. Shepard clenched her fists, suddenly feeling the same throb against her hand so long ago. 

_Stop this._

Sara’s lips moved, whispering to her brother. Shepard couldn’t hear anything beyond snatches of words, but she could guess. It was probably a litany of apologies and pleas. Just like then. 

_Fucking, stop this._

Shepard sighed, the breath long and drawn out. She was tired, beyond bone weary, but she had one more unpleasant duty to perform if Sara willed it. It was a burden she would bear for Sara. She owed it to the Ryders. They were innocents wrapped in something they didn’t ask for. If nothing else, she would see Sara find a place among people here. Her people? Well, she was no longer one of them the day she walked away, but they somehow remained hers. 

Shepard squeezed her eyes shut and hoped her side would stop feeling like its on fire. A touch brushed against her shoulder and she lifted her head. Did she fall asleep? She couldn’t tell. The room was windowless and it had the ageless quality of buzzing fluorescent lights. 

Sara stood before her, face somber, jaw tight. “Please…”

Shepard straightened and nodded. Sara took a deep breath and turned back to her brother. She pressed her lips into his forehead, half covered by bandages. They were now more red than white. The bleeding hadn’t stopped at all. If only this weren’t the end times where a bullet wound was death. One innocent nick meant an infection and it almost always led to death or amputation because anti-biotics were nowhere to be found. 

Sara gazed at her brother’s face. Eyes darting over his features, committing them to memory. Eventually she straightened and walked out, she didn’t linger, she didn’t take another look, she didn’t turn back or speak. Sara Ryder walked straight backed and stiff, tears streaming down her face out and the door closed. 

It was up to Shepard to hold up her end of the deal now. Pistol heavy in her hand, she hobbled towards Scott. This was murder, there was no way around it. She was a murderer. She had accepted a long time ago, but it always hurt. Living fucking hurt. 

Echoes of the song reverberated inside her skull. 

**I've climbed the mountains in Montana  
Danced in the lights of New Orleans**

Pistol’s safety flicked off.

**Portland ran away with me,  
And San Francisco stayed with me**

Muzzle pressed against Scott’s head.

**Nashville made its way in between**

“I’m sorry,” she whispered and she pulled the trigger. 

* * *

The news about the cure spread through the Citadel like wildfire. The air of hope and anticipation was undeniable but Shepard remained apart from it. She kept close to Sara, shadowing her as she pulled the blanket of mourning around herself. It was a blanket familiar and warm. And it gave Shepard time to heal.

A parade of old friends and comrades came knocking, many thumping her on the back and thanking her. Most had assumed she was on a years long undercover mission to infiltrate Cerberus for said cure. She couldn’t bring herself to correct them, it was easier to let them assume what they wanted. The others had also taken Sara under their wing, making sure she ate, and refusing to let her hide out in the shared room she had with Shepard. Alenko, in particular, was frequently found at her side. 

Sara was safe with the others. The cure delivered. Her work was done. Maybe it was time to go after all. But Anderson came looking for her one day. 

He grunted as he sank onto her cot. “You know this is hell on my knees.”

She eyed him cautiously as she shifted to make room for him, her eyes searching his. “Why are you here?”

“Can’t a man come visit an old friend?”

She chuckled. Her side wasn’t a constant burning pain anymore. It’s just sore. But that’s far more bearable than the ache in her chest whenever she looked at Sara. The younger woman was curled on her side lying on a cot just next to hers, eyes closed. 

“Is it strictly pleasure then?” she asked, rising a brow at him. 

He grimaced and shook his head. “Have you heard of the Shroud?”

Shepard frowned, racking her brains as she tried to remember. It was a project started years ago to combat global warming. It was derailed thanks to the Reaper virus. “I seemed to remember it’s an environmental initiative by the Council before the virus.”

Anderson nodded. “Too little, too late.”

She rolled her eyes. “The Reaper virus made sure human couldn’t kill Earth any longer.”

He waved his hand. “Anyway, the Shroud would have the capabilities to send the cure up into the atmosphere.”

“But it’s just one vial though,” Shepard said, clutching the vial in her pocket through the fabric. 

“According to Carlyle, it self replicates rapidly upon activation.”

She blinked. “What does that mean for that woman who is cured?”

“She died,” Anderson confessed, running his hand through his short cropped hair. The greys outnumbered the blacks now. Furrows along his brow had turned into trenches. 

_This job will be the death of him._

“Life will be the death of him,” she muttered under her breath. 

He cocked his head at her. “What did you say?”

She shook her head, dismissing his question. “So in essence what I have is pure concentrate. It wasn’t meant to be used to cure a person but for air dispersal.”

“Yes. So we have to secure the Shroud.” He sighed. Shepard would think having the solution to the Reaper virus would ease the burden on his shoulders. But he looked more tired if that was possible. 

“What is it?”

He looked up and met her eyes. The deep brown eyes were dull by the stress of command. “The Shroud is under Cerberus control. And they are better fed, more well equipped than anything we could possibly match. I can’t even say we’ll outnumber them.”

_Fuck._

“But we’ll try right?” This question didn’t come from Shepard but from Sara. She propped herself up on one elbow, hair loose from her pony tail but eyes deadly earnest. “We will try, won’t we? This can’t be all for nothing. Scott can’t have died for nothing.”

Shepard tightened her grip on the vial in her pocket. She held her breath. Anderson stood, straightening his spine, squaring his shoulders. And suddenly he was the mentor she looked up to, the man who saw the spark in her after the Blitz, after Torfan. He groomed her into the soldier she was, introduced Ash to her, married them when the time came. 

“We will. And failure is not an option.”


	7. The End of The End

“Are you sure?” Shepard asked, eyeing Sara carefully. 

Sara was emerging from the heavy blanket of her grief through the combined coaxing of Vega and Alenko. The weight of her loss was still stark against her eyes, but the brittleness was gone, replaced by stoney edged determination. She pulled on borrowed tactical armour, strapping on a pistol to her thigh and slinging a rifle over her shoulder. 

“Yes,” she replied without looking up from her work. “I’ll see this through. After that… I’ll see what comes after.”

Shepard inhaled, the breath sharp and hard. “All right.” She turned back to her own preparations. 

The mission was a go. It took Anderson and Hackett a good week to plan and do recon. And then another week to convince the Council that this was the only way the mission had a chance of succeeding. Shepard understood the need to be cautious after all they only had a single vial left. 

Cerberus had ensured the vial was tamperproof. There was no way Chakwas or the other doctors could draw a sample to make sure they could replicate it if it came down to it. Shepard regretted Maelon’s death. It would have been so much easier with him around. 

_What’s done is done. There is no use thinking about it._

The buckles clicked, zippers secured and straps tightened. She was as ready as she would ever be. Straightening, her side sent a small jolt up the length of her torso. She grunted and pressed a hand against the healing wound. Two weeks and still it wasn’t completely healed. Chakwas told her it was years of malnourishment that’s the cause of it. There was no cure for that unless the world righted itself suddenly overnight and still she’d need more time. 

“That and you’re aging. What do you expect, Shepard? Your body can’t keep bouncing back like you’re 20.”

Shepard laughed. And it felt good. 

“Come on,” she said as the pain passed. “Anderson is going to give the final briefing.”

Sara nodded. 

The entire Citadel was packed with soldiers recalled from all manner of missions. They pushed through the crowds to head into the cafeteria. There was no space large enough to hold everyone. Vega waved them over. He had saved them a couple of seats. She thumped the man on his arm with thanks and sat. Sara took the seat next to hers. 

Someone called out. “Attention!”

Everyone stood as Anderson entered, the noise was impressive. “At ease,” he shouted and made his way to the front. 

The room was silent beyond a few clearing throats and a smattering of coughs. Anderson picked up the mic and spoke. 

“You all know why you’re here.”

Murmurs floated up throughout the cafeteria. Shepard kept her eyes on Anderson. He took a steadying breath, “We have the cure. And this mission is to make sure it’s sent up into the atmosphere and in doing so distributing it globally. The operation will be divided into five main groups.”

Nobody spoke. All eyes were trained on Anderson. The air was anticipatory. Shepard’s heart thumped against her chest. 

“Alpha will be lead by Major Alenko, Bravo by Lieutenant Vega, Charlie by Recon Specialist Vakarian, Delta by Specialist Lawson and Echo by Commander Shepard.”

Shepard blinked. Why was she leading a team of her own? She wasn’t Alliance anymore. Did they reinstate her while she wasn’t looking. 

_Once Alliance, always Alliance._

Alenko and the others got up and stood next to Anderson. Shepard felt a nudge against her ribs, the good side. Sara was pointing at the others. She stood and hesitated. But Anderson took her arm and pulled her to join the others. Eyes wild she looked at the sea of faces staring back at her. There were many familiar ones. Goto, Jack, Nyx, Harper, Krios and Taylor to name a few. They were all looking at her, at them with hope. The fierce determined kind, the kind that they were lacking in for years, the kind that promised to do or die trying. She rolled her shoulders, the burden was heavy but one that was familiar.

Anderson sketched out the plan. Charlie and Delta would support Alpha and Bravo respectively, attacking the Shroud head on in a bid to distract Cerberus forces from their true motive. Echo, Shepard’s team was to get to the top of the Shroud, activate the dispersal system and administer the cure. It sounded easy, but execution would be far from simple. 

“You all have your orders, report to your respective officer in charge. We move out tomorrow at 0400 hours,” Anderson concluded. “Dismissed.”

As the people filed out with the respective team leaders calling out to their members, Shepard sagged back onto the chair she occupied earlier. 

“Fuck, this is actually happening?”

_Yeah, it is._

Sara chuckled darkly. “It is finally happening. We’re going to end this.”

A deep laugh rang out as a heavy bootstep approached. “So you’re the famous Commander Shepard?”

She looked up and found a tall and heavy set man looming over her. If it was possible he made Vega looked puny in comparison. He stretched a hand out, “Drack, I’ll be on Echo.”

She took his hand, her fingers could barely wrap around his palm. “Shepard.”

He grinned and proceeded to crush her hand while she gave as good as she had got. When he released her hand, her joints felt like they were all ground to dust. “I can see why you’re in charge of the cure,” he rumbled in approval. He turned to look at Sara. “The kid is coming along?”

“Yes, she is,” Sara growled, glowering. 

A lanky man, as tall as Drack but half his width walked over. “Good to see you again, Shepard.” 

She grinned. “Solus, I’m glad to see you’re still kicking around.”

He gave her a small smile before turning to Sara. “Name’s Solus. Tech specialist for Echo. Have worked on the Shroud during construction.”

Sara nodded. “So this is Echo?”

Shepard nodded. “That’s us, just us four.”

* * *

The rat-tat-tat of rifle fire filled the air, punctuated by the high pitched whine of mortar zipping overhead. It was the symphony of battle. 

The Shroud was flanked with decaying mammoth caresses of skyscrapers. Dead cars, vehicles large and small pockmarked the streets. Rusty and rotting, the stench of death filled the air. Sniper rifle shots echoed against the shards of concrete stretching out towards the sky. 

Shepard had studied the map. She had done her homework, but she hadn’t expected to lead. Now three pairs of eyes looked at her for direction and she had no choice but to step up. “It’s almost over,” she whispered. 

_It is._

She gestured in a series of hand signals. The abandoned gridlocked vehicles provided excellent cover as they leapfrogged their way towards the Shroud. Commands were screamed over the general comm frequency. Alpha through Delta were making good progress. And Cerberus was responding. Anderson held a company back as in reserved because zombies would inevitably come. They know a feast when they saw it. 

As they were 250 metres out, Solus took charge. “Here, ventilation system. Cleaner access.”

Shepard nodded. It was a tight fit with their armour on. For a while she was worried Drack wouldn’t make it through but he managed albeit with much grumbling. There was no stealth with the amount of banging they made. She could only hope Cerberus were occupied elsewhere. 

As they dropped down into the lobby, the air was still and hushed. The place still hung onto the optimism of the before times. Yellowing and peeling posters lined the walls. Cerberus had not updated the decor since they took over. She glanced over at Solus. “Where to?”

“Up.”

She rolled her eyes. “Is there a faster way than the stairs?” Her eyes darting towards the console panel. Activating the elevator was bound to bring Cerberus on their heads, was it worth it?

“Can make it untraceable,” Solus declared confidently as he strode over to check. 

She jerked her head at Drack. The man lumbered over and watched Solus’ back. Sara shifted closer. “I don’t like this.”

_Me neither._

It was too quiet. Given the importance of the Shroud, and how clear the Alliance’s intention were, this place should be heavily defended. Why wasn’t it? 

“Keep an eye out,” she said. 

The elevator dinged as it arrived. “Doors opening,” a computerised female voice said, “EDI welcomes you to the Shroud. Which level would you like to go?”

“Which level is the Shroud at?” she asked as they stepped in. 

“Top.”

“We’ll get off five levels below it,” Shepard said. “Then randomise where the lift stops.”

Drack nodded. “Smart. Keep the fuckers guessing.”

“Will do,” Solus said and his fingers were flying across the control panel inside the elevator. 

As the elevator climbed, her ears popped, watching the numbers on the panel going from double digits to triple. She was glad she didn’t have to make the climb on foot. The elevator dinged again. “Door opening,” the voice said again. “I hope you enjoy your visit to the Shroud - Securing Earth’s Future Today™.”

The four stepped out, rifles leading the way, clearing the lift lobby. It was empty like the rest of the building. The silence weighed as heavily as the vial nestled against her chest. 

The quiet was shattered with a long screech. “Fuck,” Sara growled. “Zombies.”

Shepard turned to Solus. “Where are the stairs?” 

He gestured before taking off on a run, dragging Sara with him. Drack and herself covered their retreat towards the stairwell. Then Shepard froze, it was unmistakable. They were without a doubt zombies, corrupted flesh and glowing blue eyes but they were wearing Cerberus armour. 

“What the fuck?” she shouted. “Were they zombies underneath all this time? Is that how Cerberus have so many troops?”

“Fuck should I know!” Drack bellowed. “Just shoot!”

Gunfire was loud in her ears as she shouted, “Go! Go! Go!”

The door leading to the stairwell slammed open and they piled through only to have gunfire erupting when they entered. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Sara yelled, firing into the stairwell. 

Solus unclipped a grenade from his belt and tossed it in “Fire in the hole!” 

Shepard barely paid any attention. Her focus was only on keeping the first group of zombies off them. Bullets shredded corrupted flesh. They screamed, they cried in their strange guttural tones but still they came. 

“Come on!” Drack shouted as she felt someone hauled her bodily backwards into the stairwell. 

The large man wedged a metal bar he found to the back of the door, barring it. “It’s not going to hold, we have to go!”

They raced upwards, stopping from time to time to address the other Cerberus troops firing down at them. Every soldier they came upon was a zombie underneath their armour. Not one of them had words to describe how they felt. 

The Reaper virus engineered by Cerberus, used by racial supremacists to commit genocides. Were these wars fanned by radicals running a global conglomerate like Cerberus? Was this always the plan? Wipe the world clean of everyone else and preserving who they deemed worthy. All the rest were good for was being canon fodder, slaves and experiments.

She pressed a hand against her mouth, her guts churning as her mind rebelled against this realisation. 

“This is sick,” Sara growled, tears standing in her eyes. “Cerberus is fucking sick.”

“You got that right, kid,” Drack snorted. 

“Intriguing, how did they control the zombies?” Solus studying one body. 

But Shepard had only one question, “Will the cure bring them back?”

Solus shrugged. “Only one way to find out.”

* * *

Shepard glanced behind her. Sara was staggering up the steps, blood trickling out from a gash across her thigh, her face a mask of dogged tenacity. The order for Sara to fall back died on her lips. 

There was no going back.

Drack pressed close to Sara, half hauling the younger woman along. Shepard brushed the trickle of blood out of her eyes. Her helmet long gone, visor too cracked to see through. The cut above her eyebrow was more irritating than debilitating. Only Solus remained strangely more energised than when they started. 

Shepard, in the lead, burst through the final pair of doors, diving immediately for cover. Finger pulling on the trigger and spraying bullets indiscriminately. Zombies screamed but they were immediately silenced under a hail of metal and fire. Sara and Drack slammed their bodies against cover, their bullets joining hers. 

The Shroud’s console was housed in a wide room that spanned the entire cross section of the building, ringed by glass windows and steel support struts. Shepard could see the yellow cast of the sun peaking through clouds outside. The floor gleamed with a high polish despite the years. And right in the centre was the console, jutting up from the smooth floor like a stage with a pedestal. It was large and it was imposing with countless mechanisms that stretched further into the ceiling connected to it. 

But standing between them and the console was a familiar figure in black armour. Gone was his helmet and spotting a brand new metal eyepatch. Shepard grinned. 

“Shepard!” Kai Leng roared. “Face me!”

Her only reply was a fresh clip slamming into her rifle and unloading it into the nearest group of zombified Cerberus troops. Solus wedged the door they came through shut, but judging by the door bowing under the zombies behind it wasn’t going to hold. Solus glanced meaningfully at the console as he reloaded. She nodded. 

_So close._

Shepard shifted towards the edge of her cover only to be forced back with a well aimed bullet clipping the edge. “Flank him,” she ordered, “I’ll keep him busy.”

Drack and Solus nodded, waiting for Shepard’s move. Sara pressed a hand on her shoulder. “I’ll cover you, this damn leg won’t let me move fast enough.”

She nodded, calling out. “Kai Leng, how is it you know my name? And what the fuck did you think I’ve done?”

“Shepard, I should have recognised you the moment I saw you back at the hospital,” he shouted. “You killed my wife, you took my eye. I’m going to end you!”

She took the chance and vaulted over the cover towards the one ahead. Drack and Solus split up, going in two different direction while Sara rose and unleashed a hail of fire. But Kai Leng stood stock still, unafraid of the bullets, taking careful aim instead. Shepard inhaled, quick and sharp. The bullets impacted an invisible barrier and they fell to the ground harmlessly. A shimmering invisible shield glowed blue around Kai Leng, the impact rippled outwards and eventually disappearing.

He grinned and his rifle bucked upwards. “Die, Shepard!”

_Look out!_

It felt like a punch to her shoulder. The impact spun her around as she staggered and fell heavily. She barely made it back behind cover. 

“Shepard!” Sara shouted, grunting trying to get over to her. 

“No! Stay where you are!” she shouted. “I’m fine.”

She looked down and saw blood trickling through the shattered armour. Pain radiating from the wound towards her chest. Teeth gritting, she forced herself to her feet. Remaining couched behind it, she activated her radio. “Solus, Drack, do you see what’s making the force field around the fucker?”

“I didn’t see anything,” Drack reported.

“Portable kinetic shield,” Solus said. “Probably body mounted. Worked on prototype.”

“Fuck, why don’t we have anything like that?” Shepard cursed, her breath coming sharp and fast as she pressed against the wound to staunch the bleeding. 

“No money, project terminated.”

“What can we do?”

“Takes only so much before failing,” he replied, promptly standing and firing a volley of quick shots at Kai Leng. 

Shepard catching on, lifting her rifle up and fired, ignoring how her shoulder howled as her good shoulder absorbed the kickback. Drack and Sara roared as they unloaded their clips. 

The smirk slid off Kai Leng’s face as sparks started shooting out from his back. He flinched as the first bullet grazed his arm. The next punched through his thigh and he fell onto one knee, howling in pain. Within minutes, there was the distinct smell of burning as Kai Leng attempted to crawl into cover. 

“Now you know how my brother felt!” Sara screamed.

Shepard grimaced as she stood, jerking her head at Solus. He moved swiftly towards the console and started working on it. Fingers gliding over the panels in a blur. Drack swung his rifle ahead of him as walked towards Kai Leng. His feet were still kicking at the floor uselessly as he tried to drag himself behind an overturned table. Drack chortled as he wrapped his fingers around Kai Leng’s ankles and dragged him out. “Like a fucking cockroach,” he growled. 

Sara limped up and joined Shepard. “Are you ok?”

“I’ll live,” she hissed. She could feel her pulse thumping against her temples. 

Shepard glanced at Solus and the console. It was actually two separate things. The front was a regular computer console with keyboards, touch panels and screens but behind was a low round column that protruded from the floor. Its surface was clean, metallic and shiny. In the centre were circular slots indented into the surface and a corresponding needle hovering over them. Shepard sighed. 

_You’re almost done._

“Almost,” she whispered. She helped Sara hobble over to Drack. Kai Leng was groaning as he tried to struggle out of Drack’s grip. “Not so smart now huh?” Drack snarled, shaking Kai Leng like a leaf.

Sara surged forward, rifle swinging wildly. “You killed Scott,” she screamed, jamming the rifle against Kai Leng’s chest. “I’m going to end you.”

Drack growled threateningly as Kai Leng struggled anew. Then there was solid thump against the door they came through. All eyes turned to face it. The door remained deceptively silent. 

“Shit,” Shepard cursed, turning to Solus. “How’s it going? Will it work?”

“Power’s intact, cradle’s intact. All it needs is the vial.”

Another thump. Shepard growled in frustration. Time was rapidly running out. 

“Sara, shoot the fucker or don’t but make up your mind. We’re about to be swarmed very soon,” she shouted. She strode over to the console, dog tags jingling as she walked. 

“No! Please, don’t!” Kai Leng pleaded. 

Shepard didn’t turn to look, all she could hear were Sara’s ragged breaths. 

“This is war, casualties happen during war!” Kai Leng went on. “I’m a prisoner of war, you can’t do—”

Sara roared, loud and feral, broken and brittle. A single shot rang out and the sound echoed up the high ceiling of the Shroud’s control room. Kai Leng was silenced for good. 

Shepard’s jaw tightened and she pulled her focus to the task at hand. She handed Solus the vial and watched, half her attention on him, the other half on the door. 

“Get a grip, kid. This is not the place to fall apart,” Drack muttered as he turned his rifle towards the door, pulling overturned tables and crates to form some makeshift cover

Sara’s breath hitched as she cleared her throat roughly, pulling herself together. She limped and took up position as well. 

Shepard’s heart slammed against her ribs. “Come on.”

Another thump. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” she muttered. There was the distinctive sound of the barricade splintering. “Solus!” this she shouted. 

“Console indicates we need three of these vials,” he barked, his voice tight. 

“Three? Fuck, we needed all three?” she cried, she smashed her fist against the panel, her shoulder flared in pain. 

Another thump, the door groaned omniously. Their radio crackled. “Echo,” Anderson’s voice came through. “Echo come in!”

Thumping, cracking, breaking. 

Shepard gritted her teeth, pulled her attention away from the door. “This is Echo.”

“The reserves are committed,” he said. “What’s the status?”

Their last ditch attempt at saving the world had failed long before they made the attempt. Shepard just didn’t know it. If they needed all three, they’re doomed. Cerberus won, the Reaper virus won. Humanity would fade and nothing would be left. Nobody would be alive to learn from their mistakes. Letting blind hatred lead the way and letting it destroy everything they had. 

“I’ve failed,” she whispered. 

_Pull yourself together, Shep. There must be another way. Think!_

“What way?” she snarled. 

“Who are you talking to Shepard?” Anderson shouted. “What is the status?”

“We needed three vials!”

For a moment, Anderson didn’t reply. There was only shouts from the soldiers around him and gunfire ringing. “Say that again, Shepard,” his voice entirely too calm. 

“One isn’t enough, Anderson,” she said, voice breaking at the last word. “It’s over!”

“Then, the mission is a failure, we’ve failed.” Anderson’s voice usually so strong and determined was now weak and fragile. 

She had broken him, she broke all of them with her wild hopes of a cure, a world renewed. This was all her fault, if only she had protected Maelon, if only she had protected Scott, if only she had fucking stopped Udina, things wouldn’t have been happened. 

Unless…

Thump! The door flew off its hinges. Zombies screamed as they poured through. “Shepard, things are getting fucking hairy here,” Drack bellowed as he fired his shotgun over and over again. 

The idea was a fire in her head. She surged to her feet. Shoving Solus out of the way, she grabbed the vial he had placed in one of the slots. With a quick twist, the injector extended. Steel needle sharp and angry, seemingly gleaming orange like its on fire against the searingly hot orange glow of the sun. “Get the windows all open, smash them if you must,” she growled. 

_No, Shepard, what are you doing?_

“The only thing that can be done Ash,” she growled and plunged the needle into her neck. 

“What have you done?” Solus shouted. “Rapid replication using subject’s blood. You will die.”

“We will die anyway if we do nothing!” Shepard gasped. Her heart threw itself against the inside of her chest, her legs faltered and her knees smashed against the hard floor. “Help me.”

Solus growled, a frown furrowing his brow but he lifted her up. Half dragging, half carrying her to column. Sharp needles were still hovering in position. 

“Arm!” Solus shouted. 

She lifted her good one with difficulty. Every motion tearing at the wound in her other shoulder. Head pounding so hard, she could barely think. 

“You don’t have long,” Solus warned. 

“Nobody does.”

_Shepard, what have you done? This is not the way._

“Ash, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she babbled, unthinking. 

Solus positioned her arm just under the three needles. “It’s going to hurt,” he warned. 

“Just fucking do it!” she growled. 

Shepard shuddered as her gut clenched, her inside were being forcibly rearranged. She couldn’t keep a good grip on her pistol, it fell uselessly to the ground. It was all she could do to wrap herself around the column and hang on. 

“Shepard,” Anderson called. “What is happening?”

She had forgotten the radio was still active. “The right thing,” she gasped, vision swimming as she coughed, blood splattered across the pristine column. 

“Hold still,” Solus warned.

He slammed his palm against the panel and the needles descended, piercing into her arm. She screamed. The zombies screeched in harmony. Together they formed a chorus of terrifying wail that swept through the Shroud. She remained on her knees, head pressed against the cool surface of the cradle. Lungs heaving, gut churning, head pounding. With a loud boom, an explosion went off. The glass windows that ringed the Shroud shattered. Wind howled through, joining in the symphony of cries.

Pain was an exquisite thing. Her vision was blotted out in white as it took over. She wasn’t in control any longer. Hands turned to claws, jerking and cramping. Her back arched and curled in angles impossible as a million needles stabbed her from the inside out. 

Outside, a red mist started to fall from the sky. Drack growling his fury, Sara screaming her defiance while Solus kept his back to her as he kept her safe. All this to keep her alive for one second more, one moment more as the machine took her blood turned cure and sending it into the atmosphere.

This was her dirge. Shepard knew that now but the song soared in her head even as awareness faded. The same song that she shared with Ash.

_I'll find reasons to stay  
And someone to take up my time_

Unseeing eyes glazed over by pain and agony. Vision tunnelling but she fought against the inexorable tide. 

_And I'm not gonna go  
When I get home_

A red mist swept in from the shattered windows. It was a caress of a lover’s touch covering everyone. The zombies stopped. Claws sheathed, fangs stilled. The others watched wary and careful. Then the reversal started. 

_I'm going home_

“Ash, I’m coming home,” a sigh of a breath long held finally released. 


	8. Epilogue

The world was changed in that instant, but Sara didn’t know it. Her adrenaline was running high. Life and death was on the line. The screams were alarming and bone-chilling. And just as suddenly. like the air was sucked out of the room, silence. 

Corrupted flesh receded, blue glow faded. Zombies now replaced by humans. All of them falling to their knees, weeping and crying. Drack and Solus suspicious as they kept their weapons trained on the newly returned. But Sara’s first thought was Shepard. 

She turned to find the Commander on her knees, arm stuck at an awkward angle. Her blood siphoned into a machine Sara didn’t understand. Her eyes closed, face shrivelled and dry, but her free hand clutched the dog tags around her neck. Sara walked over, breath held, not quite believing what she saw. This wasn’t Shepard, this was a husk of a human body.

“Are we safe? Is the world saved? Is it all going to be ok now?” she whispered, willing Shepard to open her eyes and answer. 

There was no answer. 

She pressed a hand against Shepard’s back. It was still warm. Her fingers searched for a pulse against Shepard’s neck. 

There was none. 

Solus came over and pressed a hand against her shoulder. “She’s gone. Gave her life for us all.”

And Sara shattered for the second time. But this time it wasn’t regret, it wasn’t shock or anger. It was relief mixed with sorrow. 

It was over. 

* * *

“Ryder,” Alenko called. 

She turned to face the Major. “Sir?”

He chuckled. “Enough of that. How was the mission?”

“It went well, we got the supplies to the affected zone, no problems. There are pockets of Infected not exposed to the cure. The canisters T’Perro gave us helped with the dispersal.”

“I’ll mark that area off. Good job. Come back in two days for your next assignment.”

She gave him a mock salute and left. 

It had been two years. The language had changed. No longer were the Infected called the zombies. They were merely people infected with the Reaper virus, all they needed was the cure. And they would joined the ranks of the Returned. It’s a new world Shepard had given them. 

But life wasn’t all easy after the Battle of the Shroud. Things were still difficult There was suddenly an army of Returned, all of them needed food, medical help and shelter. These were already in short supply and things only got worse with the sudden arrival of the Returned. 

But the Alliance and various human enclaves pulled it together. She made sure of it. Shepard didn’t save the world just to have the Alliance continue in their old ways. Omega was thriving, it was turning into a haven for many Returned. Aria still ruled with Vidal as her right hand man, Drack informed her. He made trips to Omega for barter. Cerberus still posed a threat, but their forces were severely diminished. Rumour had it they were kidnaping people and forcibly infecting them. But it was no longer an effective method of recruitment. Everyone had the cure. 

Sara stepped out of the oppressive press of humans inside the Citadel. 

Outside, the sky was blue, sometimes she could still see the red mist of that day. A sunset made bloody by sacrifice. The course of humanity had turned on a single decision. That day everyone lost something. The Battle of the Shroud was paid for in blood, sweat and tears. But 11th April also marked the day the Reaper virus was defeated, the day humanity stood up again.

Shepard’s body disintegrated, turning into dust and drifting out with the winds. There was nothing to fill a coffin for burial. All that was left were the dog tags. 

Birds were chirping in the distance and Sara took a deep breath, dog tags jingling against her chest, six instead of the usual two.

“Thank you Shepard for everything.”

**All lyrics taken from[Pictures On A Wall by Ira Wolf](https://soundcloud.com/irawolfmusic/pictures-on-a-wall)**

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments are always welcomed!


End file.
